Carpe Tenebrae
by Empress Vader
Summary: The Empire is born. The Jedi have fallen. In a dark bedroom an Angel sleeps whilst across the stars the Dark Lord rises. When a soul is burned only ashes remain. But what happens when those ashes meet the whirlwind of a previous life? Dark story. Trigger warning. Rated M for everything.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

Every day is the same. Wake, wash, eat, run errands and sleep. Rinse and repeat. Life is all about going through the motions now, for the sake of my family. Each morning at eight, my mother knocks on the door, announcing herself before entering my darkened bedroom and I'm sitting here, staring at the mirror trying to find a reason to do my hair. To be honest, I don't know whether she expects me to change or if hidden behind that warm smile is some deep-seeded fear that one day I won't wake up.

They are all I have left now. Mum, Dad, Sola and her family. And I suppose then there is Sabè, one of my dearest handmaidens. Every morning, at first light, she goes to my mausoleum to keep up the charade. Replacing the withered flowers that lay beside my empty sarcophagus. They had said it was best that I stayed hidden under the pretence of my death, due to my vocal discord at the Empire's birth. I don't understand why it would matter. The Empire has already taken everything that I cared about – what good am I to them now?

It is very kind of Sabè to stick around and look after me these past nine months. Not that I have been overly friendly, but she never complains. It actually pained me to force a smile when mum asked me too yesterday. She said it was for the sake of Pooja, my niece. Apparently having a sour looking aunty all the time dampened her spirits somewhat.

But what is there left to smile about? My soulmate had been brainwashed and manipulated to the point of no return, only for me to never see or hear from him again. It still aches, not knowing if he's actually alive or not. I don't think that will ever change. Our babies are gone and all I have left of him is the Japoor snippet weighing heavily around my neck. I don't even know if _they_ survived. I hope so. But then again, if they did, where are they? More the point, who has them?

Obi-wan is gone too. I remember seeing him on my ship on Mustafar, and then I have these vague flashes of him in the operating theatre, holding my two precious miracles in front of my face. I remember naming them – Luke and Leia. I don't know if he's alive any more, either. I hope he made it out safe and is now hiding somewhere. Perhaps one day I'll see or hear from him again and I might actually find some sort of closure.

Nine months.

Two hundred and seventy four days of crying myself to sleep – and today marks the seventy fifth.

Every single morning I catch myself asking, why?

Nine long months spent hoping ... praying ... waiting for Anakin to miraculously turn up at the door begging for my forgiveness. But he never does. I know it's nothing but a fool's dream – if he were actually alive, he would've been here by now. I just know it.

It hurts just thinking his name, let alone saying it _aloud_. I haven't dared utter it since that night and I don't think I ever will. It's still far too painful. Much like the gaping void in my stomach.

Nine heart-breaking months knowing that somewhere ... out there amidst the glittering array of planets and star systems ... I might still have a son and daughter.

All I know is this. When I woke up in that transport, screaming for someone to notice that I was in-fact still alive ... I had suddenly lost ... _everything._


	2. Introduction

**INTRODUCTION**

Coruscant. A densely populated city planet covered in modern infrastructure. A place that once used to be the center of a fledgling republic, marred by greed and indecision. A republic so blinded by its crippling internal quarrels and self-righteousness, it didn't see its very destruction until the bitter end.

Now things are different. Better. There are no more delays with regards to decision making. No petty squabbling over who loses and who gains. And more importantly, no useless voting halting progress.

There is order.

" _Sounds more like a dictatorship to me."_

A vice grips the charred remains of my chest. If it wasn't for the clunky respirator, painfully forcing air down into what was left of my lungs, I would've lost my breath. My artificially regulated heart skips a beat and the lights flash on my control panel in alarm. There was _that_ voice again. _Her voice._ The voice of an Angel – no a ghost. A distant whisper of a haunting past. My response was to her then, as it remains now. _"Well, if it works."_

The black synth-leather gloves squeak and crack as I clench my fists tight, forcing the gears in my mechanical hand to whine under the pressure. I grind my teeth together so hard, my jaw starts to ache.

This isn't the way it was meant to be. _She_ was always supposed to be at my side. Always. _My_ Angel was to be _my_ Empress and together we were going to rule the galaxy, as husband and wife. Politician and soldier. The bleeding-heart and the enforcer. A balance between ever present light and omnipotent dark.

 _Absolute Perfection_.

I sacrificed everything to ensure I wouldn't lose her the way I lost my mother. Selling my soul to the very epitome of darkness itself. But she had to betray me. Bringing _him_ to the place only _she_ knew about, to destroy me. And in the end it was my own hand that determined her fate. Strangling the very life from the woman that I sold my soul to protect. Snuffing out not only her light but that of our unborn child as well. If it wasn't for Obi-wan, she'd still be alive, possibly standing beside me, cradling our baby in her arms … and I wouldn't be confined to this walking coffin.

That Jedi may have taken my love and my limbs, but in the end – it is I who won. The gift of eternal pain and hatred their deceit bestowed upon me, now breathes new life into the monster I have become.

Inside, I no longer know love, nor joy. Not happiness nor excitement.

I only feel pain. Pain, hatred and anger. An all consuming, festering rage that urges me on. Anger at her … at them … at him … at my master … at everyone.

But the most powerful of all … is the complete and utter hatred I have … for _myself_.

The shuttle descends through the thick cloud cover, revealing the city below. It's been just over a month since I was last here and already I yearn to go back to the star destroyer. I truly despise this place and everything that it once stood for. Just the sight of it dredges up the never-ending tortuous memories of my previous life. Lifting my mask, I gaze out between the two pilots and stare through the viewport. The infra-red lenses, painting my vision crimson.

The skyscrapers dominate the industrialized horizon, interlaced with steady ribbons of bustling air traffic, their glowing lights weaving back and forth.

In the distance, nestled amongst the chaos stands the crumbling duracrete Ziggurat, its five spires stretching up into the hazy atmosphere - the tallest of which containing the newly renovated Imperial throne room. My current destination.

The _former_ Jedi temple.

The home of the new Emperor, Darth Sidious.

My _master_.

This is my life. My destiny. My curse.

Anakin Skywalker is dead. I am all that remains.

I am Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith … and one day … I _will_ have my vengeance.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Please enjoy and review. These are just two insights into the head space of Vader and Padmè. The chapters will be longer when the story takes off. I just adore the simplicity of the first person POV and feel it sets the mood perfectly.


	3. Chapter 1: Naboo

The Rise of the Empire. The Jedi Temple was overrun by the newly anointed Darth Vader and his 501st Legion, slaying all but a few of the Jedi Order. After meeting with his wife and informing her of his newest mission, he leaves in his starfighter for Mustafar.

Once carrying out his new master's commands and wiping out the Separatist leaders, he is suddenly confronted by her on the molten planet. Only, she isn't alone. _He_ came with her. His long time friend and mentor, Obi-wan Kenobi.

Overcome by anger and fear, convinced that his love had betrayed him and brought the Jedi here to kill him, he lashes out, force-choking her. Hearing his old mentor commanding him to let her go, he finally realizes what he is doing and relaxes his vice grip, watching as her heavily pregnant body crashes to the floor.

His mentor tries to reach out to him, but it is of no use, he is unreachable. The two former brothers argue before the youngest declares: " _If you're not with me, then you are my enemy."_

He keeps his back to his former mentor, unable to look upon his face as he says it.

" _Only a Sith deals in absolutes,"_ Obi-wan replies, more to himself than to his old padawan. _"I will do what I must."_

" _You will try."_

The war begins. The once master and padawan battle it out over a scorching river of lava, their two lightsabers flashing and arcing furiously in the air. Running along suspended platforms and leaping from swinging pylons, the two men fight, one consumed by anger the other by grief.

They finally reach the ashen shore and the mentor stands on the bank, his blue lightsaber hanging at his side.

" _It's over Anakin, I have the high ground!"_ he calls out.

Blinded by his sudden surge of power, the younger replies: _"You underestimate my power!"_

" _Don't try it!"_

Anakin springs from the platform, launching into a somersault, moving to land behind Obi-wan. Only, in his fury, he'd misjudged the distance falling just short of his intended landing. In a flash, his legs are severed from his body and he finds himself rolling down the steep embankment, sliding perilously close to the hissing lava.

He reaches out with his mechanical hand, trying to pull himself back up. The heat licking at what remained of his legs.

" _You were the chosen one!"_ Obi-wan cries in agony. _"It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the force … not leave it in darkness!"_

His amber eyes burn as he glares up at his old mentor in fury. _"I HATE YOU!"_

The Jedi steps back in shock, exhaustion and complete despair. With a shake of his head, he turns to pick up the discarded lightsaber before looking back and giving in to his grief. _"You were my brother Anakin. I loved you."_

Fire spreads up over the groaning Sith, fusing his Jedi robes to any skin that isn't in-contact with the sand. His screams course through the air, drowning out the constant hiss and rumble of the molten river below. As he lifts his head, the flames engulf it, spreading down over his shoulders.

Unable to watch any more, Obi-wan turns and ascends the bank. Leaving his long-time brother, padawan and best friend to burn alive on the ashen shore.

The Jedi returns to Padmè's ship and rushes her to the medical facility on Polis Massa, where she prematurely delivers the two force-sensitive babies. After naming them, on her dying breath she whispers: _"Obi-wan … there's good in him. I know … I know there's still …"_

Her words trail off, her head lulls to the side and the medic droids pronounce her dead. The Jedi meet to discuss the future of the two newborns and decide to separate them, sending the girl to Alderaan with Senator Bail Organa – one of Padmè's dearest friends – and the boy to Tatooine, to Anakin's family under the watch of Obi-wan.

As the transport departs the asteroid belt, a sudden surge rips through the force, originating from light years away and she screams inside the medical capsule.

The Force has other plans.

 **Carpe Tenebrae**

 _(SEIZE THE DARKNESS)_

 **CHAPTER ONE:** _ **NABOO**_

Under the shroud of darkness, three hooded figures creep out from behind a vine-covered wall and disappear into a waterfall. They navigate their way through a series of secret corridors and pause at two massive wooden doors. They slowly creak open and the figures dart inside before carefully pulling them closed.

Stopping in the centre of the chamber, the taller of the three, lowers his hood and clears his throat. "Lady Apailana," his husky voice calls out, "I came as soon as I got your message. What's going on?"

Standing at the far end of the vast room is a young girl, no more than twelve years of age. Moonlight streamed through the arched window, shimmering off her ruby red gown and ornate head piece. She turned on the spot to face them, her expression far too serious for someone so young. "Ferus, you and your companions need to leave Theed. Tonight."

Despite her childlike appearance, the queen's voice was anything but. It carried a certain authoritative tone that left no room for question. Emotionless, crisp and rigid. Ferus took a step forward, crossing his arms tight across his chest. "Tonight, my queen? Why the rush?"

Her deep brown eyes darted between the party, finally landing back on him. "I just received word from the Emperor that he is sending one of his mercenaries here to meet with me. He said it is simply his way of checking in on his beloved homeworld." She let her words trail off and turned back to face the window. "We both know that isn't the real reason Ferus," she whispered.

"I understand my lady. We will move camp to the city outskirts and maintain comm silence until they leave."

"Thank you Ferus. The risk of your discovery is far too great for the both of us."

The former Jedi bowed his head. "Words cannot express my gratitude at your allowing us to operate from here. I only hope that in time, there will be enough of us to repay your kindness and restore this Republic to its former glory."

Apailana spun to face him, her eyes sparkling with defiance. "I promise to assist your rebellion in any way that I can. But for now you must go. My duty is to my people, first and foremost."

• • •

The ride back to camp was slow and tedious. The three Kaadu – large, two legged reptilian creatures with duck billed faces – carrying the former Jedi and two padawans, grunted and groaned as they plodded through the silent streets. The damp mist on the air hung heavily around the illuminated street lights, giving them a peculiar yellow aura.

Ferus lifted his hand to wipe the moisture, that had successfully breached the cowl of his hood, from his face. He glanced up at the cottage drawing closer, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread washing over him. The Empire was coming and the queen was worried. He'd never intended for her to get caught in the middle of this, but she'd insisted. Stating that the Empire was everyone's enemy and that Naboo was proud to take a stand against it. Now her life was also at stake.

His steed grunted as he pulled it to a stop and dismounted. He gave it a grateful pat on the neck and turned to his two companions, watching them struggle down from the creatures. "Gather your things, we can eat once we set up the new camp."

"I don't understand why we have to hide Master Olin. Shouldn't we be staying here to protect the queen?" the tanned young man asked, throwing his pack onto his back.

Ferus shook his head. "Patience Caleb. The time to fight will come, but for now we must watch and wait. Use this opportunity to focus on the force and listen to its will."

The young blonde pulled her hood in tight and huffed. "I can't sense a great deal anymore," she complained. "Not since the temple went up in smoke."

Tying the Kaadu harnesses around a wooden pillar, the former Jedi sighed. "Jaina, it's still there. You just need to listen harder." He tugged his rucksack over his shoulder and gestured for the padawans to follow. "Come along, both of you. We have a lot to do."

Piece by piece, the three force users gathered up their supplies and loaded them into the awaiting cart. Only focussing on bringing the essentials, they packed up an assortment of spare clothes, food, sleeping arrangements and tools. Caleb carried out their long-range transmitter, while Jaina ran around inside the cottage trying to disguise its contents.

"That should be enough to last a week at least," Ferus called out, fastening the cart to his Kaadu's saddle.

"Well, I've hidden anything that looks strikingly obvious, but if they dig deep enough they'll soon be onto us," Jaina replied pulling her hood up and closing the door.

Caleb mounted his Kaadu and glanced back at Jaina heading towards hers. "We have the transmitter. Worst case scenario, we can call for help."

The three Jedi make their way through the streets of Theed and finally reach the city limits. Rain gently pats on their robes, soaking them through to their tunics. They stop in amongst a small forest neighbouring a long suspended walkway that ends at the entrance of a domed building. Of all of the structures they'd passed, this was the first to have lights on. Outside, two guards stood diligently at the entrance, keeping watch.

Ferus glances at the building from within the trees and dismisses it, before hopping down from his Kaadu and moving to unpack. The two padawans dismount and assist him, spreading out their belongings and preparing the tent. He looks back at the building once more, feeling it calling to him.

Caleb notices his attention while holding up the tent poles for Jaina. "That is a sacred place Master Olin."

The Jedi clears his throat and moves to help the two padawans with the tent. "Oh and how do you know that?" he asks.

Tugging the canvas over the poles, Jaina begins assembling the tent. She ties the strings around the posts and moves to the side to stand by the older Jedi. "We were here when the procession moved through the city. It's a mausoleum, the resting place of one of Naboo's most beloved queens. Rumour has it that she was murdered by a Jedi during the purge."

Caleb released his post and moved to the cart to transfer the food and clothes into the newly erected tent. He drops them down inside and looks through the trees at the building. "The Queen never believed that though, it's common knowledge around Theed that she believes it to be some type of cover story."

Ferus folded his arms and stared at the two padawans curiously. "Oh, and who does she think is responsible, if it isn't the Jedi?"

Jaina shrugged her shoulders and headed back to the cart to continue unpacking. "Word on the street is, she thinks the Emperor did it."

Picking up the transmitter, Caleb carried it over to the tent and ducked inside, setting it down on the floor. He began fastening all of the wires together and connecting the power cells to fire it up. His eyes shifted to his two companions as they joined him inside. "I don't know, but don't you find it the slightest bit odd that there are always guards stationed at the tomb of a dead woman?" he mumbled, clipping the cables together. "Unless of course they're hiding something."

The transmitter burst into life, whirring and humming from the power cells. The younger man stood up and smiled at his handiwork, brushing the dirt from his hands. He joined the other two in removing his robe and hanging it over one of the guy ropes to drip dry.

"What could they possibly be trying to hide?" Ferus asked, sitting down on his makeshift bed and tugging off his boots.

Jaina and Caleb both glanced at each other before the young woman shrugged her shoulders and muttered. "I'm not sure, but I've heard whispers ..."

"What whispers?" Ferus prodded pulling out the rations from his pack.

Their eyes momentarily locked and there was a sudden pregnant silence.

"Suggesting that maybe she isn't in there at all," Jaina whispered, taking one of the bars from his outstretched hand.


	4. Chapter 2: Haunted

**CHAPTER TWO : HAUNTED**

 _ **CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE**_

 _KHOOSH ... PUUHR._

 _KHOOSH ... PUUHR._

 _KHOOSH ... PUUHR._

The sound of the respirator echoes in my ears. Keeping my head to the ground, I stare at the marble floor. The helmet and mask are heavy; their combined weight pressing down on my neck and threatening my balance. Still, I keep my gaze to the floor. With knees bent, one beneath me on the marble and the other locked in front, I kneel submissively before my master, waiting for him to address me. He keeps me waiting, all the while, the joint between cybernetic limb and flesh of my thigh pulls and pinches. Trying not to dwell on the pain ... I focus on my breathing and wait.

He walks towards me, the subtle shift of his robe on the floor attracting my attention. I still don't know why he summoned me here; it was urgent, or so he'd said. Yet, I sense no such thing.

His boots breach my sights, and he looms over me like a rancor, clearing his throat.

"Aah, Lord Vader. Rise my friend."

His voice is calm and empty, purring with the ever-present threat of punishment. I lift my head and push my hulking body from the floor, finally feeling a sliver of relief from the pinching in my legs. Resting my hands on the utility belt, I obediently await further instruction.

Sidious pauses for a moment and I feel the dark tendrils probing against the edge of my mind. It's an unsettling experience, but one he assures I will get used to in time. It feels like a mild headache, mixed with a sudden coldness that sets my nerves on edge and causes my skin to prickle. Knowing better than to resist, I lower my shields and allow him entry, tightening the grip around my belt. Moments later, the prodding ceases and he withdraws, leaving me chilled to the core.

He chuckles darkly, eyeing me over like some prized possession ... a toy ... or pet. My eyes lock onto his from behind the mask and I stare, waiting for the lightening to strike. To my surprise, it doesn't, and I watch him turn and begin to walk away. His seemingly fragile body riddled with darkness, slithers back towards his empty throne.

"You summoned me, my master?" my deep baritone voice announces, breaking the silence.

He stops at the foot of the stairs. "Indeed I did," he replies moving to ascend the steps. "I am sending you on a mission."

My heart soars. For too long I have been cooped up under the pretence of convalescence. With the exception of hunting down the odd Jedi survivor, my time has mostly been spent tweaking the suit and growing accustomed to my new body. "A mission?" I ask, almost too eagerly.

He reaches the top of the stairs and turns to face me, slowly lowering himself into the angular seat. "Yes, Lord Vader." He steeples his hands together on his lap and pauses before continuing, his Sith yellow eyes fierce and piercing. "I think it is time we introduced you to the galaxy, starting with Queen Apailana of Naboo."

Sshhk. My respirator falters as I audibly choke and stumble back. _Naboo_ ... the name rebounds in my head, nearly knocking me over. Without warning images of _her_ face strobe before my eyes. _Padmè ... Angel ... my beautiful, deceitful wife._ Listening to the unsteady hiss of my respirator, I slowly gather myself, burying the memories deep down. "Why Naboo?" I rasp, trying to mask my unease.

His brow tightens, overshadowing his flaming eyes and once again I feel the invasion. Every piece of me that is still human tightens in anticipation, preparing for his inevitable attack. He abruptly pulls out of my mind and stands firm, choosing to simply stare at me in silence before rising from his seat and turning away. I'm not sure if he's disappointed or angered by my sudden knee jerk reaction to his mentioning of that traumatic planet, but I felt a shift in his demeanour – an overwhelming tidal wave of malevolent energy - that now coursed between us.

Standing atop his elevated platform, he keeps his back to me, folds his robed arms and stares out the sweeping window, almost disappearing into the shadows. He snickers. "Perhaps you can visit your beloved _dead_ wife's grave during your time there, since you are still so _affected_ by her demise."

 _AFFECTED?_ The voice inside my head screams in outrage. _Of course I'm affected. I did this for her!_ I clench my fists, cast my gaze to the floor and for the briefest of moments, allow myself to reflect. After another barrage of body-numbing memories wash over me, I am left feeling hollow and empty.

I had given up _everything_ to save her, in the belief of his false promise. Now my pain at her memory is little more than a tool he employs to manipulate me – a device he exploits to drive me deeper into the dark side. Lifting my mask to once again stare at my master's robed back, I contemplate the idea of killing him.

The sound of my respirator invades my senses and ruthlessly drags me back to reality. He knows as well as I do, that I pose no threat to him in my current state. He demonstrated this the last time I rose against him in a fit of unbridled rage, simply waving his withered hand in my direction and shutting the suit down effortlessly. I had never felt so helpless and powerless in all my life; collapsing to the floor with a crash, as every artificial part of me suddenly stopped functioning. Breathless, immobile and completely vulnerable, I stared up at him from the floor like a wounded animal and knew I was trapped. Unlike other apprentices in ancient Sith lore, who in the end challenged their masters for supremacy once they no longer needed their tutelage, I would never be able to do that.

I felt a little piece of me die that day. Another fragment of Anakin Skywalker to disappear into the darkness, never to be seen or heard from again. With a dip of my helmeted head, I concede, "Yes, my master."

Another cackle fills the chamber, echoing his delight in my pain. He turns around to face me, a sinister smile now plastered across his disfigured face. "Good, good," he sneers, taking a gangly step towards me, "that naive queen is rumoured to be hiding a small band of rogue Jedi. Go there. Find them and show lady Apailana what happens when you betray our Empire."

"As you wish," I rumble. Bowing before him, I spin on my armoured heel and stride away, my boots clunking on the hard floor and my heavy black cloak drifting in the air behind me.

• • •

"Preparing to drop out of lightspeed, Lord Vader."

"Very well Captain," I reply, not moving from my position by the viewport. Folding my arms, I stare out at the ribbons of light streaming passed the Exactor's hull. The ship shudders and the ribbons disintegrate, revealing a dazzling display of millions of stars twinkling in the distance. My eyes lock onto the planet ahead and instantly my chest grows heavy and tight.

I sigh quietly, shifting my stance and tightening my arms across my chest. The sound of my respirator is deafening and it mixes with the chorus of beeps and subtle musings of the destroyer's bridge. This is the first time I have returned to this sector since _her_ death. As much as the idea of being able to finally say my good-byes appeals to me, I can't shake the bitter taste that lingers in my mouth. If only she'd listened to me for once and just waited for my return like I'd told her to. Things would've been different.

I feel my heart rate accelerate as my temper flares. Dropping my hands to my sides, I clench my fists and stare at the planet, willing it to explode before me. I want to see it shatter, to see tiny pieces of it hurtle into space, leaving behind nothing but a gaping void, like the one burning inside me now. Caressing the hilt of my newly constructed saber, I whirl to face the command centre and charge down the catwalk, stopping behind the ship's Captain.

He turns to face me. I can sense his fear, he is dripping with it. The sensation stokes the rage slowly rising within my breast and I embrace it, feeding off the power it incites. Hooking my gloved hands onto my belt, I push out my chest and watch him tremble in my close proximity.

 _That's better. You should fear me. Everyone should, and in time the entire galaxy will quiver before me, as you so pathetically do now._

"Can I h-help you, Lord Vader?" he squeaks, staring wide-eyed up at me.

I loom silently, allowing my respirator to push him further into submission before responding. "Ready my ship at once," my robotic vocoder booms.

"Right away my lord," he stammers, quickly turning to fumble with the command controls and issuing the order.

I chuckle to myself and stride away, leaving the fool and his associates to wallow in their fear.

 _If to be a monster is my destiny, than I shall become the most terrifying monster I can. My suffering ... will now become ... their torture._

* * *

 _ **NABOO**_

The lambda-class shuttle touches down and I hear the steady rhythm of armoured boots exiting along the ramp. Rising from my seat, I glance around the main cabin at the two pilots and then back to the exit. I straighten the chain around my neck, securing my cape and tug the utility belt hanging on my hips back into position. Gathering myself, I force my artificial legs forward, focussing on keeping upright. The weight of my stride thuds on the durasteel floor and it creaks with each step. Reaching the extended ramp, I sweep my mask left and right, surveying the area.

The handful of troopers I brought with me line the platform, forming a row either side of the ramp. In the distance an assortment of local guards wait, their blasters hoisted over their shoulders. The Queen however, is nowhere to be seen. Apparently my coming here is not important enough to warrant her presence at my arrival. A mistake I will ensure she doesn't make again.

I thunder down the durasteel plank and stride out between my men, motioning for them to fall in behind me. The moment they close ranks the local guards descend upon us, making their way across the landing pad. There is something about the whole situation that makes my skin tingle and my teeth grind. Something is indeed off and I instantly grow suspicious.

The small group stop before me, blocking my path with their blasters raised. "State your name and your business here," the commanding officer demands pointing his weapon at my face.

 _Time to teach them some respect._

Reaching my gloved hand out, I pull him up from the floor with the force and hold him in the air by his neck. His blaster plummets to the ground and his feet kick furiously, while he tries to futilely tug at my iron grip around his throat.

"My name is none of your concern. I am here on behalf of the Emperor to speak with the Queen. You will take me to see her now."

The officer chokes out a garbled 'yes' and I release him, watching as his worthless body falls to the floor. He struggles back to his feet, keeping one eye firmly planted upon me whilst rubbing his neck. "My apologies Sir. Please if you and your men could follow me," he croaks, returning to his shocked companions.

With a flick of my wrist, I gesture for my men to follow and we march from the landing platform, up the stone staircase and through the grand entrance. The moment I step foot inside the palace, my heart jumps into my throat and steals my breath. Every wall feels like it's closing in on me and I keep my eyes focussed on the officers' backs, trying to keep my balance. I push the useless emotion down and pull the force into me, to strengthen my awareness.

We ascend the left staircase and cross the upper level, passing commemorative banner after banner. Each one depicting one of Naboo's former heads of state. My limbs lock momentarily when I catch sight of hers and I stumble to a halt. My men pause at my back and I can feel their eyes upon me.

With a shake of my head I regain my senses and resume pace, doubling the length of my stride and pushing my way right up to the guards' backs. We reach the massive wooden doors and they're shoved open, revealing the throne room. Following the guards into the chamber, I stride into the centre and fold my arms staring in shock at the image before me.

 _I need to get away from this place before I go insane. She looks just like she did._

The young Queen turns to face me, her skin painted white with the same scar of remembrance upon her lip. "Lord Vader I presume?" she asks in the same royal tone that _she_ used to use.

"Indeed," I snarl, tightening my arms over my suit. "Queen Apailana, the Emperor has a few questions he wants answered." I turn to my men and dismiss them as she does the same with her guards, then the doors close leaving the two of us alone.

She turns around and takes her throne, placing her hands together upon her ornate desk. "Are you here to kill me, Lord Vader?"

 _Straight to the point, impressive._ I rock back on my heels slightly, lifting my chin up to look down on her and pause. "If I have need to." I feel her fear suddenly rise before being expertly pushed away. _She has her strength too._

"How long will you be in Theed?" She asks.

"That all depends on what I find."

She sighs and gazes back down at her hands, now fussing with paperwork on her desk. "Ask your questions and leave, as you can see I am very busy."

My anger flares and before I realise it, I am charging across the chamber and looming over her, my gloved hands braced against the wooden desk. "Where are the Jedi you have been protecting?" I hiss, tightening my grip around the top.

She glares up at me defiantly, rising from her seat. "I am no traitor. Please remove your hands from my desk."

I straighten my posture and allow my breathing to cycle in and out for a moment to quell my irritation. Raising my hand and jabbing my finger in her face, I snarl, "If you will not give them up, I will tear this planet apart piece by piece until I find them, starting right _here_ in Theed."

 _That wiped the smug look off her face._

She takes a hesitant step back and stares up at me in shock. "You wouldn't dare."

I can't stop the smile scratching it's way across my face behind the mask. The scarred skin around the edges of my mouth tightens and pulls, but the pain is worth it, as the idea of taking out my pent up fury on this insufferable planet fills my head. "Oh believe me, _your_ _highness_ ... I would."

With a flourish of my cape, I spin on my heel and charge for the doors, pausing briefly at the entrance. Glancing over my shoulder, I give her one last opportunity to comply. "Aiding and abetting Jedi is a treasonous offence, punishable by death. I hope for your sake you are telling the truth, or our next meeting will not be as ... _pleasant_."

I lead my men from the palace and back to the shuttle, turning to face them. The wind whips at my cloak and I feel it brushing against the side of my legs. "Go into the city and find somewhere suitable to set up base camp. Meanwhile, I will contact the Exactor and arrange for reinforcements to join us. Comm me with your location."

"Right away sir," Commander Appo replies with a salute.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 _Please enjoy and review. Feel free to pm me with any questions or ideas. I wont be updating as fast with this story as I did with the previous one, because I want to focus on quality rather than speed. I am open to any constructive feedback and welcome private messaging if you have any suggestions on how I can improve my writing style._

 _MTFBWY._


	5. Chapter 3: Persecution

CHAPTER **3: PERSECUTION**

 **THEED MARKET: EARLY MORNING**

PADMÈ'S POV

The market was bustling this morning. Red and white umbrellas littered the streets, the heavy cloth gently flapping in the early breeze. The sickly smell of freshly baked Five-blossom bread mingles with the earthy aroma of newly harvested produce and home-made handicrafts. Across the sandstone walls, bands of sunlight glitter, warming the tops of the buildings lining the walkway.

"Wait for me!"

Two children, a small girl and slightly taller boy dart out from around the bend, scampering along the cobblestone, their ebony shadows dancing on the road as they bolt passed me. My eyes follow, watching them disappear into the crowd behind us.

"Shuura fruit! Get your fresh Shuura fruit!"

My head snaps towards the origin of the booming voice and I stare blindly at the aging man standing by his grocer's stall. His wooden cart is piled high with an enticing array of exotic fruits and vegetables, their colours mimicking the vibrant hues of a rainbow.

Street cart, upon street cart surround me, each with their own individual showcase on display for the early crowds. People of all ages shuffle left and right, stopping to peruse this morning's offer.

Sabè makes her way over to an elderly woman arranging flowers and I follow, picking up a small posy of millaflowers and inhaling their perfume.

"Just the usual, my dear?" the old lady asks, handing a beautiful assortment of fresh blooms to Sabè.

"Yes, thank you Estelle."

My ears prick to a strange clattering coming from the distance. The rhythm is distinctive, like heavy patterned footsteps marching in sync. But not usual footsteps, these were weighted down and cloaked in a peculiar rattle.

"What is it my lady?" Sabè asks, moving to stand closer.

Squinting my eyes at the end of the walkway, I watch a large sweeping shadow creep up over the buildings. "I'm not entirely certain, Sabè. But I'm sure I've heard that sound before." The noise draws closer, getting louder and louder with each passing moment. I can almost pick out individual footsteps now, and every instinct is suddenly urging me to leave.

"I think we should go back, something's not right," I whisper, keeping my eyes glued to the head of the alley.

"If you say so my lady."

Before I can take a step, they appear in the distance; ten armoured bodies clunking heavily on the cobblestone road. The early morning sunlight glints off their white duraplast armour, and glistens off their drawn blasters as they march through the crowded market. "Clone troopers?" I gasp, covering my mouth in shock. "What are they doing here?"

"I have no idea, but I don't intend on sticking around to find out," Sabè replies.

She tugs on my arm roughly, trying to shake me from my momentary shock. My eyes are drawn to their presence like a moth to a flame, almost as if they're calling to me, beckoning for me to go to them. My feet edge away from the stand, numbly following my gaze. The troopers push through the horde of market-goers edging closer to our position.

The first one looks familiar. I strain my eyes, trying to decipher the markings on his helmet. The distinctive blue arrow over the dome and between his lenses steals my breath and I find myself desperately wanting to run over and demand answers.

"That's ... that's Anakin's legion. I'm sure of it Sabè," I whisper, slowly edging away from the flower stall. "The blue markings he has on his armour ..." I turn around and search my handmaiden's eyes desperately, as if she could give me the answers I have craved for so long. "They are the markings of the 501st."

"So?" she retorts, pulling harder on my arm. "What are you going to do? Storm up to them and demand answers? Be reasonable Padmè, they're just soldiers, they won't be able to tell you anything. Let's just go, we can come back tomorrow."

"But what if they know something? What if he's still alive and looking for me?" I yank on my arm trying to pull away and I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. "I must know Sabè! Someone has to know what happened to him." My feet stumble back from her pulling harder on my arm. Her expression is dire, those loyal brown eyes of hers staring into mine, pleading for me to listen to reason. I can't help it, the thought of possibly discovering the truth of my missing husband's fate is too much to ignore.

"Padmè. What if they know you're alive and they're here to capture you? Do you want to be a prisoner of the Empire? Is that what you want?"

"No, but," I mumble dropping my gaze to the floor. "I just wish I knew something ... _anything_." I can't stop the tears from falling and I cover my face trying to quickly brush them away.

The warmth of her supportive arm around my shoulder reminds me of her best intentions and I give in. "Come my lady, we can get the rest of what we need tomorrow."

Pulling the hood of my velvet cloak up, I follow Sabè into the crowd, merging with the masses. We push forward, carefully making our way through the market until we reach an adjoining alley.

"We can duck through here," she whispers, tugging me around a bend.

This alley is more narrow than the one in the market – most of the buildings back onto it and it feels oddly claustrophobic. It's darker too, possibly due to the smaller opening at the top restricting the sun's access. We pass several doors and small windows before stopping at the end of the corridor. Sabè ducks her head around the brick wall, checking to see if the coast is clear. She hastily pulls back and I hear more of the armoured footsteps closing in on us.

With her back pressed against the wall beside me and her eyes glued to the alley she mutters, "There's five more of them out there, Padmè. I think we're surrounded."

I move closer, daring to sneak a peak around the corner. Sure enough she is right, except this squad has stopped at one of the houses. They bang on the door and I listen, hoping to catch what they're saying.

" _This is a routine inspection. Step aside in the name of the Empire."_

The resident of the house is dragged out onto the road and roughly thrown to the ground, yelling furiously. "I don't care who you are! You have no right to barge into our home like this!"

Two of the troopers enter while the other three remain outside. The man is held down on his knees while the search is conducted, cursing and protesting the entire time.

A few moments later the troopers exit the house and regroup with the others, holstering their blasters and looking around the alley.

" _All clear, there's no Jedi in here."_

"Jedi?" the man exclaims scrambling up to his feet. "I could've told you that you imbeciles!"

I throw myself back against the wall and glance at Sabè, who seems just as confused as I am. "They're looking for Jedi?" I whisper.

"I haven't seen a Jedi around here for ages," Sabè replies scratching her head. "I wonder what makes them think there's some here."

I pull my hood up tighter, trying to conceal my face. "I don't know, but now I'm going to pay closer attention just in case."

The footsteps resume and we watch them march off down the road. With a precautionary glance, we see their armour disappear around the intersection, leaving our potential exit clear.

"Let's go before more arrive," Sabè states, pulling me along with her.

Weaving in and out of shadows, we make our way through the streets, being careful to avoid detection. Clone troopers litter the roads, carrying out their apparent investigation. Reaching the centre quadrangle where our speeder is parked, we pause beside an abandoned local store and stare at the spectacle before us.

Gathered in the clearing are six men all wearing heavy Jedi like robes, kneeling on the cobblestone. They are surrounded by over twenty clone troopers all with their blasters aimed towards them. But the most disturbing image isn't the men cowering on the road or the armoured soldiers standing ominously over them. It's the towering creature cloaked in black armour that chills me to the core.

It stands like a man, all seven feet of it, dressed in all black, its cape heavily drifting on the morning breeze. Upon its shoulders sits a glossy domed helmet, complete with an almost droid-like face. There is an odd rasping and clicking coming from it, which sounds strikingly similar to an artificial breathing mask.

"Who the kriff is that?" Sabè gasps.

"More the point, how do we get to the speeder without being spotted?" I reply.

My eyes are drawn to the figure in black, watching as he strides closer to the cowering men. The deep rumbling sound of his voice makes me jump as it reverberates off the quadrangle walls.

" _These are no Jedi, but they may still be of some use to us."_

One of the men suddenly rises into the air, kicking and grappling at his neck, almost like he is being choked. The figure in black has his hand extended, holding his arm out and directing it towards the struggling person. His movement looks unusually familiar and I find myself unable to look away.

" _Tell me where the Jedi are and I will make it quick,"_ he demands.

The trembling prisoners exchange terrified glances between their companion dangling in the air and then back to each other. His face is slowly turning red and his gasps for breath are distorted and strangled. It takes all of my willpower not to cry out in outrage.

"You're too late, they're long gone!" the man at the end cries out, staring up at the cyborg defiantly.

His masked face snaps towards the outspoken man. " _So they are here. Tell me where they are now and I will end his suffering."_

The silence is interrupted only by the sound of gurgling coming from the now purple-faced man suspended in the air. One of the troopers suddenly breaks formation, calling out to the black figure.

" _Lord Vader, Commander Appo's team has just made contact. He thinks they've found something."_

The midnight mask darts from victim to soldier. _"What have they found?"_ he booms.

" _A hideout of some sort my lord. In a small cottage not too far from here."_

" _Inform the Commander that we will be at their position momentarily."_ His attention returns to his prey. There's an odd chill to the air, like a winter gust that makes every hair on my body quiver in protest.

" _Well gentlemen, it appears that your usefulness has reached its end."_

He closes his gloved fist and the next thing I hear is the sickening sound of crunching followed by a loud crack. The man's head suddenly slumps forward, moments before his lifeless body crashes to the floor.

Sabè's hand slams against my mouth in an attempt to stifle my cry. I'm dragged back behind the store, and her deep brown eyes stare at me. My body is shaking and my heart is racing. In the distance I can hear them talking and I strain my ears to listen over my thumping pulse.

" _What about these?"_ one of the troopers asks.

There is a short pause and all I can hear is the same rasping and clicking sound cycle in and out. His booming robotic voice echoes in the empty sector as he announces his response.

" _Execute them and dispose of the bodies. I have no further use for them."_

" _Right away sir."_

"What? No Sabè, we have to stop them," I cry, trying to free myself from her arms.

She holds me tighter, keeping my body pressed between hers and the wall. "There's nothing we can do for them Padmè."

I struggle against her grip as I hear the thud of heavy footsteps begin to march away. Armour clatters, boots thud and blasters cock. Before Sabè can stop me, I duck my head around the corner, just in time to see the blinding red flash of lasers flying from their weapons and pummelling into the five kneeling men. Their bodies thump down onto the cobblestone and I stare in complete shock.

Sabè tugs on my arm, trying to shake me from my stupor and I turn my sodden eyes towards her. "He's a monster," I choke through the steady stream of tears running down my face. "How could someone be so heartless?"

"We have to go, now Padmè," she panics, yanking on me. "Now, before we're next. Forget about the speeder, come on."

We're running now, nervously glancing left and right. Ducking in and out of shadows, darting behind parked speeders and barrelling through the narrow backstreets. Sabè's hand is locked tight around mine and my dress is catching on my legs with every bound.

"Sola, where are you?" Sabè snaps over her comm-unit as we grind to a halt near the last street.

" _By the dock, Darred and I grabbed the speeder the moment you beeped us. Where are you?"_

We huddle by a wall watching for any signs of danger. My lungs are burning and I wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead before they drip into my eyes.

"Near the library, hang on we'll come to you," Sabè replies, yanking on my arm and pulling me around the wall. We resume pace and in the distance I can see Sola and Darred's family-sized yellow speeder idling by the lake dock.

"Come on Padmè, we're almost there."

"Yes I can see them Sabè, I'm not blind."

We reach the speeder and the door bursts open. My sister and her husband are sitting up front, their eyes both staring at us intently. I climb in first with Sabè clambering onto the seat beside me and slamming the door closed.

"What happened Padmè?" Sola asks, her big brown eyes sparkling with worry.

I stare out the rear-windscreen as Darred pulls away, listening to the thrumming engine being pushed to its limits. Sandstone buildings and street lights fly past, blurring into the distance. My heart is still pounding and I take slow controlled breaths to try and settle it down.

"Padmè?"

My eyelids are heavy and my stomach is churning as I turn to gaze into my sister's questioning eyes. Images of the haunting black figure and his massacre flood back into my mind and I swallow down the burning acid-bile that rises in my throat.

I can't look at her. I can't talk about it. I don't even want to think about it. Mostly because there was something horribly familiar about the way he moved – something I couldn't put my finger on.

The way he held his hand out ... the way he choked that man. The way he so effortlessly crushed his neck - without so much as laying a finger on him - and murdered him right there, out in the open.

So cold-blooded ... so merciless ... so _cruel_.

And then ... to have the rest of them slaughtered in the middle of the street like ... like _animals_? I just ... I just can't understand it.

I take a deep, soul-cleansing breath. Dropping my head to the side, I rest it against the cold window and close my eyes. "I don't want to talk about it right now," I whisper, more to myself than to anyone else. "Please, just _please_ ... take me home."


	6. Chapter 4: Shadows & Dust

**Chapter 4: Shadows and Dust**

Nothing. The Jedi have been here, I can sense their lingering presence. They've covered their tracks well, concealing most obvious operative evidence within cupboards and behind furniture. Looking around the upturned cottage, I stop by a dusty wooden desk and pick up a small screwdriver - similar to the ones we used in the temple – and twist it around in my gloved hand.

As my thumb glides over the grooves a vivid flashback of my days in the workshop thrusts itself into my mind. The blinding blue glow of my newly repaired lightsaber thrumming in my hand. It seems everywhere I go, I am surrounded by triggers dredging up my past, like the force itself was taunting me.

"My lord?"

The offensive tool falls and clatters to the floor. I clench my fists and glare at the trooper, standing by the broken down door. "What is it?"

"There are several discarded power cells located in the back room," Commander Appo replies.

"From a transmitter I suspect. The Jedi will most likely be trying to locate other survivors."

"That's my guess sir, yes."

I take one last glance around the dishevelled cottage. There's nothing here that is of any particular use – someone must have warned them, giving them enough time to escape. Whirling on my heel, I charge for the exit. " _Burn_ it, Commander. Burn it all."

"Yes my lord."

Standing outside, I watch my men torch the establishment. They sweep their flame throwers left and right, the fire engulfing the small building. Wooden beams crackle and snap as the heat overwhelms them and the bright yellow and red glow radiating from the inferno, dances over the squad's white armour.

Commander Appo joins me out front to watch the smoke billowing from the roof and I glance over at him. "Commander."

His white helmeted head turns towards me. "Yes Lord Vader?"

"Have your men sweep the city. Set up check points at all major intersections and monitor all movement. I want them found."

"Yes my lord."

"Comm me when you find something."

I need to rest. Every flesh part of me aches. Turning away, I begin the journey back to base camp to try and recuperate. My alloy legs are heavy, thumping awkwardly on the uneven cobblestone roads. My cloak casts a looming shadow, flickering beneath me on the ground as I walk. Each step feels like razor blades are slicing through the tissue joining my prosthetics.

Trudging through the streets, I notice the once busy lane ways are now devoid of life. The markets from this morning empty and the roads quiet, with not the slightest hint of activity. Curtains are drawn on every window and all doors are closed.

I stride through Theed, praying to the force that I can finally get some rest. Last night was possibly one of the worst since my rebirth - every time I closed my eyes inside the claustrophobic mask, I was plagued by visions. Memories. Nightmares.

 _Her_ face haunts me. And being stuck on this infernal planet isn't helping matters. The still raw agony at _her_ death tears me apart inside and here I am surrounded by reminders of what we had ... what I should _still_ have. I need to sleep but at the same time I'm terrified of closing my eyes. Fearful of the dreams. Infuriated by the harsh reality.

Reaching camp, I will the heavy door open with a wave of my hand and cross the threshold. Commander Appo and his men had managed to secure a satisfactory establishment from which to operate. It was one of the bigger buildings in Theed, with the exception of the palace – and I had _no_ intention of staying there. With three floors each containing three times as many rooms it offered ample enough accommodations to house the troops.

Taking to the red carpeted stairs, I make my way up the two flights to my temporary quarters. My room is the biggest with it's own separate lounge and fresher. Not that I need the bed, my current condition prevents me from actually laying down thanks to the helmet.

Using the force, I draw the curtains and trudge over to the large recliner positioned beside a lamp in the corner of the sitting room. I remove my cloak and drape it over the neighbouring sofa before carefully lowering my hulking body down onto the chair. With a flick of my wrists the lights go out and I drop back against the plush cushion.

Moments later ... I'm asleep.

* * *

"There's smoke over the city," Caleb stated, tugging on his brown robe outside the tent.

Ferus pushed his hair back from his face and stepped forward, pausing beside the young padawan. Squinting his eyes toward the cityscape, he holstered his lightsaber and folded his arms. "The empire will raze the entire city in their search for us. We must remain vigilant, this is only the beginning," he replied.

"But what about the civilians? What happens to them?"

The older Jedi patted the younger man's shoulder before turning back for the tent. "As far as the Empire is concerned they are traitors and as such are now condemned for assisting us in our escape. We are fugitives Caleb - they will show no mercy to all who oppose them."

Caleb stared at the floor and kicked one of the small rocks off into the trees in frustration. "I just wish we could do something." He lifted his head, his brow furrowing tightly. "We are Jedi. This is what we were trained for. If we can't stop them who can?"

Ferus stopped dead, hearing the frustration in the young man's tone. He glanced over his shoulder in concern. "Caleb, there is nothing we can do. They chose their fate long before the Empire arrived. If we rush in there now trying to defend them we will be captured, ultimately destroying everything they have risked so much to protect."

"But they are protecting us! That makes us responsible for their deaths! Why are our lives so important compared to their own?"

"Our continued existence gives them hope, my young padawan. Hope that one day there will be enough of us around to vanquish the Emperor and his mercenaries from the galaxy and restore peace. And hope is worth fighting for ... sometimes even _dying_ for."

The tent walls shuffled and Jaina exited, pulling her robe tight over her head. She looked up at Ferus who was heading straight for her.

"Where are you going?" Ferus asked folding his arms.

She brushed a long lock of blonde hair behind her ear and stared up at him, her expression serious. "I had a vision last night."

He cocked his brow holding his ground and blocking her path. "Oh, and what was that about?"

"It doesn't matter. I need to go to the mausoleum to find answers. I won't be gone long."

He didn't move, spreading his legs and standing firm. "What was the vision Jaina? It might mean something."

She glanced up at Caleb for support and then back to Ferus, uncomfortable with being put on the spot. With a sigh she replied, "It was my wedding day. But not in the usual way. There were no guests or ceremonies, no family members or friends ... just the two of us ... standing by a lake with the sun going down. _He_ was a Jedi."

"And you think that visiting the mausoleum will give you the answers you seek?"

She shrugged her shoulders, pulling her arms in tight over her chest. "I'm drawn to it Master Olin. So yes, I hope so."

"Very well, Jaina. We will watch you from here. But be mindful of your surroundings ... if _anything_ feels off you return straight away. Understood?"

The young woman bowed her head. "I understand master. Thank you."

"You are a diviner Jaina. Sometimes your visions mean more to the bigger picture than what you understand them to."

"Yes master."

• • •

The wind whipped at her robe as she crossed the elevated walkway leading to the mausoleum. Birds were chirping, leaves were rustling and the clouds were swirling in the hazy sky. Up ahead, two armoured guards stood in waiting their blasters cocked and trained in her direction. The force called to her, the sensation getting stronger with each step she took.

"Halt! State your name and purpose," one of the guards stated. His red armour glistened blindingly in the afternoon sun. These were no ordinary clone troopers, they reminded her more of the Sentry guards that patrolled the Senate precinct at Coruscant.

 _Seems a bit like overkill to have two such highly skilled soldiers guarding a grave,_ she mused dipping her robed head.

"I am but a family member here to pay my respects, sir. Please allow me to enter so I can grieve," Jaina replied emphasizing her words through the force. It was a long shot, but seeing these weren't simple weak-minded clones, she wasn't sure that mind persuasion would actually work on them.

They exchanged glances appearing to contemplate the idea. Lowering their blasters, both guards took a step to the sides. "This is a restricted area. You have ten standard minutes inside. After which time we will escort you from the premises."

Jaina nodded her head respectfully. "You have my thanks," she replied slowly walking between them.

The mausoleum was eerily silent. Just being in there made every hair on her neck quiver. Entering the foyer she was greeted by a series of stone chambers all lit by torch light. The flames flickered across the walls and the wind whistled as it made its way through the building. Using the force to guide her, she focused on her feelings and entered a secluded passage to the far right.

Her footsteps echoed off the sandstone floor, reverberating in the silence. Reaching the end she paused, listening to the force whispering softly, encouraging her to move forward.

Soft coloured light filtered into the chamber. It came from a beautifully crafted stained-glass window at the far end. She squinted her eyes and lowered her hood, stepping further into the memorial.

The image depicted in the window was of a striking woman, dressed in a royal blue gown. Her brown hair cascaded down over her shoulders and her smile was one of the goddesses. The beams of light glittering through the vivid panes, illuminated the ornately carved sarcophagus positioned before it. It too was as breathtaking as the window, depicting the very same woman. Either side stood two stone columns, each with a carved pot containing hundreds of lush blood-red flowers.

Crossing the floor, Jaina shook in a shallow breath and stood beside the sarcophagus, laying her hand gently upon its cool stone surface and closing her eyes. Visions assaulted her mind and she knew she was in the right chamber.

The wedding from her dream replayed in her head. But like last night, the Jedi's face was obstructed – blurred out in a pitch-black shadow. Her heart fluttered and the vision changed. It felt like butterflies were swarming in her stomach, floating and dancing as if drifting on a spring breeze. She instinctually rubbed her abdomen. Seconds later the visions shifted again and she was suddenly gasping for air, gripping her throat trying to breathe. Her eyes and nostrils were burning and the smell of sulphur permeated the air.

The force vision abruptly vanished into darkness, leaving her in a state of bewilderment. She opened her eyes and stared at the sarcophagus in silence.

 _You suffered so much. But I can't feel you. The force tells me of your journey, yet I can't sense your presence._

She closed her eyes again, reaching out with her feelings. The truth hit her like a searing blaster bolt to the chest.

 _You aren't in there are you? That's why I can't feel you. Perhaps the rumours were right after all. Maybe you aren't ..._

"Who are you and what are you doing in here?" an accusing feminine voice demanded from behind.

Jaina jumped, spinning around to stare at the woman behind her. She looked so similar to the woman in her dream but ... different at the same time. Dark brown hair, deep hazel eyes ...

"I asked you a question," the woman said walking towards her with a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

"My name is Jaina, I came to pay my respects. I didn't mean to intrude."

"You shouldn't be in here," the woman snapped, striding towards the sarcophagus and placing the flowers down on top.

"What was her name?" Jaina asked watching as she fussed with the bouquet.

The woman glanced up at the young intruder sceptically. "Her name was Padmè Amidala. She was one of the strongest Queens Naboo had ever had. However since you are 'paying your respects' I would've thought you'd have known that already."

Busted. Jaina stared into the woman's eyes and felt nothing but protectiveness and compassion pouring from her. "I'm sorry. It's just that I've been having these dreams lately. Dreams that have led me to here. I was hoping to find some answers."

"Dreams? If you are having visions of Lady Amidala, I would hardly call them dreams ... more like nightmares," the woman replied walking back to the entrance. She paused by the exit. "Look, I don't know who you are, but if I was you I would forget this place ever existed and leave now never to return. It's not safe."

Jaina moved to follow, curious to learn more. Clearly this woman knew of the late Queen and her tragedy and now more than ever she felt determined to find out the truth. "Please, tell me your name. So I know who to look for."

The woman glanced at the floor before pulling her velvet hood up over her head. "Sabè. My name is Sabè. I was one of Queen Amidala's handmaidens. The old woman at the flower stall in the markets knows how to reach me. Just ask her if the _handmaiden_ is in, she will know what it means. Please be careful Jaina, Theed is currently a dangerous place to be ... for a _Jedi_." With that she turned and disappeared down the corridor.

"Wait! How did you know I'm a ..." Jaina asked running after her - but she was already gone.


	7. Chapter 5: First Sight

**Chapter 5: First Sight**

" _Ani."_

" _Hmmm?"_

" _What should we do today?"_

 _Her voice is like a chorus of Angels soothing the battered scars on my soul. The morning sun warms my face on the soft pillow and I feel the silken caress of her hand upon my back. I lift my arm and grip her naked waist, pulling her closer. The net curtains flapping against the open window fan her scent toward me. The smell of her hair is sweet and intoxicating drifting around on the early breeze._

 _With my eyes closed I inhale deeply, allowing her aroma to fill my senses. I don't want to move. I'm perfectly happy staying right here beneath the sheets with my arms wrapped around her. Feeling her smooth warm skin pressed up against my own. Last night was more amazing than I could have possibly imagined. Our first night together in many long months._

" _Let's just stay here," I whisper, tightening my arms around her._

 _She giggles, gently tucking my unruly hair behind my ear. "I thought you might like to go for a picnic. You know ... to the meadow."_

 _I slowly open my eyes, gazing down into hers. The two deep chocolate pools sparkling up at me expectantly. "Hmm," I reply, brushing her hair away from her face, my voice still husky from sleep. "While that does sound enticing ..." I press my hips into hers, as our close proximity re-ignites the desire still lingering from last night. "Or ... we could ..."_

 _Wrapping one hand behind her head and the other at the small of her back, I pull her hard into me and lean down to kiss her. As our lips touch the throbbing ache returns down below. Her tongue darts inside my mouth and she pushes her hips into me before tucking her leg up over my waist._

 _In one swift movement, she uses her bodyweight to roll me over and straddles my lap pulling away from the kiss. Deep hazel eyes meet crystal blue and we stare at each other in breathless anticipation._

" _Anakin Skywalker you are insatiable," she purrs grinding her hips._

 _I moan pushing my head back against the pillow as she slowly lowers herself over me. The moment her damp warmth surrounds me, my eyes spring open and I gasp, feeling my heart suddenly skip a beat. "What can I say? I have a weakness for Angels," I croak gripping her hips. "Especially one's as seductive as you."_

 _Her smile fills the room and the sun dances over her supple breasts. There's nothing that could make me happier than seeing my beautiful Angel naked and perched upon my waist. She is my life ... my soul ... my very reason for living._

 _Leaning forward, she whispers sensually into my ear. "Make love to me Ani."_

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm on my control panel rips me from the dream and I come crashing back into reality. My skin is on fire, itching relentlessly. My lungs burn from the respirator forcing air down into them and my heart is pounding.

I want to scream. But my throat is scarred. I want to cry. But my eyes are dry. For the briefest of moments I can feel the change ... the _light_. I can feel it in the way that I can feel the pain. The severity of my injuries.

Pushing up from the recliner, I trudge into the fresher and stare at the mirror. Reaching up, I shakily remove the helmet and mask, placing them down on the counter. Hesitantly, I stare at my reflection.

Scars cover my face, the charred skin leathery and tight. All of my hair is gone, even my eyebrows didn't survive that night. But shimmering in my haunting reflection, defying the horror that is my face, stare two hazy blue eyes.

An unnerving reminder of the man I was. The Jedi ... the hero ... the husband ... the _slayer_.

"I hate you!" I growl, clenching my fists. In my head I scream the curse, but in reality it is but a raw whisper. A raspy echo. Synonymous of my being.

Vertigo sets in and the room starts to spin. I can't draw in enough oxygen, and I grip the marble top for support. With an unsteady hand I replace my head-gear, sealing myself back inside the prison. The snap hiss of the respirator engaging. The burning rush of filtered air forcing its way down my throat.

Transformed into this hideous creature. The personification of fear itself. And buried beneath the midnight armour, concealed within the clunking suit - hides the shadow of a man. Consumed by anger, driven by pain and riddled with weakness.

Charging into the sitting room, I grab my cloak securing the chain around my neck. It's time to visit her. Time to say my goodbyes and hopefully bury the never-ending anguish and guilt that constantly plagues me.

Thumping down the stairs I reach the landing and stride for the door.

"Lord Vader, Commander Appo wishes to advise you..." one of the two troopers on guard starts to say. I'm not the least bit interested in anything save seeing my wife's memorial. Thrusting both arms out as if opening a door, I launch them from my path. Their armoured bodies take flight and crash into the walls by the entrance.

With a wave of my gloved hand, the door opens and I stride out into the night, disappearing into the shadows.

* * *

Sabè opened the door to Padmè's room and crept inside. "How are you, my lady?" she asked, walking toward the bed.

The window was wide open with a clear view of the stars twinkling in the night sky. Moonlight shone over the bed, shimmering off the Japoor snippet dangling from her hand.

"I miss him Sabè," Padmè sniffled staring at the tiny trinket. "I thought after all this time it would get easier."

Sitting down beside the former senator on her bed, the handmaiden laid her arm around her shoulder. "The pain will always be there my lady, but in time you will adapt."

"It wouldn't be so bad if I at least had our children to care for. To see them grow..." Eyes brimming with tears she turned towards her handmaiden. "Is that so much to ask for?"

Sabè pulled her broken friend into her arms and let her cry on her shoulder. Her body was shaking from the exertion, trembling under the onslaught of emotion. "Padmè, I can't begin to understand what you are going through. But I promise to stay beside you to help you through it."

"Thank you Sabè. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Stroking her chestnut curls over her back, the handmaiden cleared her throat. "I bumped into someone today at your mausoleum..."

Padmè pulled back and sat bolt upright on the bed staring questioningly. "Who?"

"I bumped into a Jedi, Padmè."

"WHAT? Who ... who was it?"

Sabè stood up and walked over to the window gazing out at the stars. "She was a young woman with long blonde hair. Her name was Jaina. She was asking about you, saying that she was having dreams about you and that they'd led her to your mausoleum."

"What did you tell her?"

She turned back and folded her arms. "I told her how to find me. Something tells me I will be hearing from Estelle in the morning. She seemed awfully persistent."

Padmè smiled squeezing the Japoor snippet tight. "You saw a Jedi. That means there _are_ Jedi here on Naboo. Please ... oh please let this be a sign."

Sabè crossed the room and placed her hand gently upon the former senator's shoulder. "Don't read too much into it my lady. When I get word I'll come for you and we can meet with her together. But for now, get some rest. Who knows you might need it tomorrow."

"Yes you're right. Thank you Sabè. Thank you for _everything._ "

Standing in the doorway the handmaiden smiled, "You're welcome my lady. Now go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

The campfire crackled and snapped. Tiny glowing embers rose in the air, dancing in the heat as the burning log finally broke in two. The three force-users sat around it, listening to the night-wisps in the forest chirping and whistling.

Jaina was deep in thought, twisting and twirling her lengthy locks into a loose braid while Caleb sat cross-legged trying to meditate.

"Did you find what you were looking for Jaina?" Ferus asked, pushing one of the fragments of log back into the flame.

Her blue eyes glistened in the firelight, looking up and meeting his gaze. She dropped her hair and laid her hands in her lap. "Not entirely master Olin."

"What did you discover my young padawan?"

She turned back to the fire watching the flames flicker. "I met a woman by the name of Sabè. She claimed to be one of the late Queen's handmaidens. She was quite put out by my being there. I'm going to the markets in the morning to try and organize a meeting with her. I think she knows something."

"You're not going into Theed by yourself Jaina. It's too risky."

She stared back up at the older Jedi in frustration. "She knew I was a Jedi. I didn't tell her ... but somehow ... she could tell. I must speak with her."

"In that case, Caleb and I will come with you. Maybe she knows of other survivors."

"Maybe. I only hope she isn't spooked by all three of us being there."

Ferus rose to his feet and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn. A cold shiver pricked it's way down his back freezing him to the spot. His eyes darted nervously around the small camp, scanning every shadow for movement.

Caleb's eyes burst open and he jumped to his feet on high alert. "Tell me you're feeling that too," he choked pulling his robe tight.

"It's as if all warmth suddenly left the forest. Almost like the bone-chilling cold snap before a blizzard," Jaina whispered joining the two men on their feet.

"The dark side," Ferus whispered cryptically, his eyes staring through the trees to the distant walkway. "It's approaching ... I can feel it."

"The dark side?" Jaina asked curiously. "What do you mean? Like a Sith or something? I thought they were just scary stories that masters told their padawans to scare them into behaving."

Caleb stepped closer to Ferus following his gaze through the trees. "Rumour has it that old man Emperor is a Sith. I heard it on the transmitter once."

Ferus nodded not taking his eyes off the platform for a second. "Darth Sidious. Yes he is. He always was. Manipulating and deceiving his way into the Chancellor's position right beneath the council's noses."

"How come the Jedi couldn't sense him?" Jaina asked also watching through the trees.

"The dark side clouded their judgement. They were too close. He blinded them Jaina," Ferus replied.

The three force-users huddled together beneath the trees staying close to the trunks to avoid possible detection. They had to remain invisible, hidden from sight. For if this dark-side user was strong enough, they would almost certainly be able to detect their force presence from miles away.

The sensation grew. Rippling through the force like a shockwave. Consuming every skerrick of light it encountered. In the distance a looming shadow appeared. The torches illuminating the walkway flickered off the hulking mass.

"Caleb," Ferus whispered holding his hand out. "Pass me the macrobinoculars, quickly. I want to see what we're dealing with here."

"Yes master." Caleb ran into the tent and fetched the scopes, handing them back to the older Jedi. "What can you see master?"

Holding the small device against his face he gasped. "It's huge. I mean huge, at least seven feet tall. As black as space itself. Heavily armoured with a cape. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"Is it a Sith?" Jaina whispered huddling closer.

"It's hard to say."

The black figure reached the centre of the platform before a blinding array of blaster fire rained down upon it. In a flash a glowing red weapon ignited, deflecting the bolts back towards the two guards. The black figure pressed forward without missing a beat and effortlessly dispensed of the men. Suddenly their two bodies rose from the ground and catapulted into the air, flying away from the domed building and plummeting down into the ravine below.

Ferus dropped the scopes and turned to stare at the two padawans in shock. His eyes were distant and empty and his jaw was slack.

"Well master?" Jaina prodded.

"Do you think it's a Sith, Ferus?" Caleb asked impatiently.

He shook his head, bending down to retrieve the scopes and silently made his way back inside the tent. The two padawans hurried in behind him watching as he started to activate the long range transmitter.

"Master?" they asked in unison.

"I need to contact an old friend. We're no longer safe here. I'm too out of practice to go up against a Sith and you two are far too green. Hopefully I can reach him, and he can arrange for someone to come and get us."

The two padawans exchanged worried glances as the transmitter hissed and buzzed.

"Who are you trying to reach master?" Caleb asked.

"Shhh. I think I'm getting something."

The transmitter beeped and responded, denoting a connection. The receiver burst into life.

"Code Nine. I repeat Code Nine. Do you copy?" Ferus stated into the module.

The male voice echoed throughout the tent. His tone was gentle but thick with a rich Coruscanti accent. _"Hello there. Come in Ferus. I copy loud and clear."_

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I hope you're all enjoying it so far. That's almost it for setting it up, soon the action begins. Strap in, it's about to get bumpy.

As always please read and review. I absolutely love reading what you guys have to say, especially when you have your own ideas of where it is heading. They are so inspirational.

MTFBWY


	8. Chapter 6: Spectre

**Chapter** **6: Spectre**

The silence is deafening. Deactivating my lightsaber; it clicks as I holster it to my belt. The wind whistles tugging at my cloak and I stand motionless before the mausoleum entrance. The guards' presence filling my head with questions. Why were they stationed here? What were they protecting? None of it adds up.

The questions only fuel my confusion, adding to the chaos of my mind. Fighting the urge to walk away I tighten my fists, dragging in one shaky breath after another. The hiss of my breathing echoes in my head, amalgamating with the whispering torment slowly rising to the surface.

I stare blindly at the soft light flickering within the stone archway. The flames bouncing and dancing on the haunting walls inside.

There is no escape. No denying the truth. But faced with the crippling reality of my past actions, my boots remain cemented to the ground. Immobile. Paralysed. _Weak_.

Limbs shaking, I force myself to take a step, my heart thumping as my combat boot strikes the floor. Everything is moving in slow motion, the force twisting and gyrating inside me like the raging fires of Mustafar. Part of me wants to give in to the darkness, to allow it to consume me and numb the pain. But deep down I know I shouldn't. I can't desecrate the resting place of my _Angel_ with the malevolence of the dark side.

My head sags forward, the hermetic collar around my neck tugging against the bulky shoulder plating. I take another shaky breath and trudge in through the archway, stopping just inside the circular chamber. A sudden gust of wind barrels through the room, yanking on my cape. The amber glow of the torches suspended on the walls, dance off my shiny black armour and cast lumbering shadows across the sandstone floor.

I remember this place. I can still see the flames rising from the pyre centred in the chamber holding the lifeless body of Qui-gon Jinn. My ill-fated master, the Jedi that not only pulled me from slavery but also from the loving arms of my mother. The vision is as real to me now as it was back then.

I am transported back to my early memories, watching through uncertain nine year old eyes as Qui-gon's body is incinerated before me. The flames engulf his face and the stench of searing flesh and singed hair burn my nose. Before I can stop it, I'm looking upon the young face of my former master standing beside me.

" _What will happen to me now?"_ my innocent child-like voice asks him.

His deceitful grey eyes stare back and instantly I clench my fists, digging my fingers forcefully into the synth-leather.

" _The council have granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi ... I promise."_

Kenobi's haunting voice rings inside my head. Even in my memories he taunts me. The building starts to shake and tiny pieces of ancient rock crumble from the roof, showering me in dust and debris. The respirator hisses and cracks from my sharp shallow breaths and my vision is suddenly painted red.

"Liar," I hiss through my teeth, trying to combat the raging inferno blazing through my veins. Spinning on my heel, I stride away from the chamber, thundering down the meandering corridor to the right. With every heavy thud of my stride the torchlights flicker and it takes every inch of my will-power to push the darkness away.

The passage seems to go on forever with each step feeling harder than the last. My heart is pounding continuously getting more and more erratic the closer I get to the end. Rounding the bend a doorway appears and I grind to a halt.

This is it. _Her_ resting place and I finally allow myself to think her name.

 _Padmè._

Closing my eyes behind the mask I step inside, afraid to look. I don't want to see it, because seeing her tomb means admitting the truth and I still can't believe it. She was alive, I'd felt her. I know she was still alive. I couldn't have killed her. I know I couldn't have. It just doesn't make any sense.

After a few steps I stumble to a stop and slowly open my eyes. My blood runs cold. Every part of me is trembling. My flesh hand, my cybernetic hand, my torso; right down to my two prosthetic feet – they are all shivering. The tremors almost forcing my body to the floor.

Lifting my head, there's a stained-glass window recessed into the far wall with two podiums holding pots of bright-red flowers, one standing either side of it. The woman in the window is obviously supposed to represent Padmè, but its subtle beauty is incomparable to that of her in my memory. It has no warmth or sparkle like she did; just an empty image that lacks emotion.

Beams of moonlight shimmer in through the intricate panel and they illuminate the stone cold sarcophagus laid before it like a spotlight. There's a fresh bouquet of local flowers placed on top that couldn't be more than one standard day old. Their wilt had only just begun to set in, the petals still plump and hydrated. Picking up one of the fallen leaves, I gingerly hold it in my glove being careful not to crush it. It looks so delicate ... so fragile ... so vulnerable. After a moment, I gently lay it back down on the carved surface and rest my hands alongside it.

I can't feel her. Closing my eyes I reach out into the force for some sort of connection – a presence or energy – some way of touching her light just one final time. To feel her essence soothe my soul in the way only she could.

The harder I focus, the more painful it becomes as the agonizing reality slowly drives me into madness. This can't be real. It just can't.

Sliding my gloves along the top I slowly walk around the sarcophagus until I am standing under the moonlight, staring at my shadow on the stone.

"Angel, I ... I'm so ..." my robotic voice wavers. The hammering in my chest steals my breath causing the respirator to skip and miss. My eyes burn and I try to swallow down the solid lump lodged in my throat.

"Please ... I beg you ... please ... forgive me." The room is spinning. I gasp for air trying to escape the sudden claustrophobia. "I never meant for this to happen." My hands slowly slip on the surface as I choke on the words. "I ... I only wanted to protect you."

Closing my eyes, I lower my head down to the stone and try once more to feel for her. The icy chill runs through my veins freezing me to the core. Even when my mother died in my arms I could still sense her – still feel the force shadow lingering within her body. But here ... I feel _nothing_.

I waver and stagger. Clutching at her sarcophagus, my boots slide out from under me and I collapse, my hulking body thumping awkwardly to the floor. A sharp stab radiates through my back and the raging fire in my heart finally explodes. In a fit of pure insanity I stare up from the floor at the domed ceiling and scream. "PADMÈ!"

Pressure builds up behind my eyes, throbbing and burning, the scarred skin stretching. The dam bursts and salty tears flood down my leathery cheeks invading the corners of my mouth.

Turning around I slump back against the stone surface and slowly unfold my legs staring at the moonlight glinting off my durasteel shin-plates. All I can do is sob as I finally permit myself to grieve, frozen to the floor listening to my hideous armour rattling from the wrenching convulsions.

Seconds become minutes. Minutes turn into hours and I silently cry myself into exhaustion.

* * *

" _Ferus, what is your situation? Where are you?"_ the man's accented voice echoed over the transmitter.

The three force-users all huddled in the tent around the long range transmitter, shaken from their brush with the dark side.

"Still on Naboo. I have picked up two wayward padawans that managed to escape the temple," Ferus answered.

" _Good, stay there and get them up to speed."_

The older Jedi glanced nervously around the tent, his eyes meeting the expectant stares of his companions. He shook his head and returned to the transmitter. "No Obi-wan, we need extraction, now. I can no longer protect them."

" _Now? You know I can't leave here. What seems to be the problem?"_

"Theed is overrun and the Empire has taken over the city. I can't take on a _Sith_ Obi-wan, not yet. I'm too out of practice for that. These padawans are in danger."

A pregnant silence hovered in the air, filled with the steady static hiss of the transmitter.

" _Are you sure it was a Sith?"_

"There's not a doubt in my mind. Look Kenobi, I don't have time to explain it. Can you help us or are we on our own?"

" _Hold tight Ferus. I'll see what I can do. Kenobi out."_

The older Jedi slumped over, dragging his hands up through his hair. Jaina and Caleb both shuffled closer, exhausted from the day's events but too nervous to sleep.

"Master? Do you think Master Kenobi will come for us?" Jaina asked.

Ferus lifted his eyes and stared into hers. The blue orbs glistening with fear. "He will do whatever he can Jaina. All we can do now is rest up and stay alive until help arrives."

* * *

The markets were a lot quieter this morning compared to yesterday. Granted she was here at the crack of dawn, but she usually was. She only came later yesterday because she brought Padmè out with her. Glancing around she noticed every second stand was boarded up and the sellers that _had_ turned up looked as though they were ready to flee at the slightest hint of danger.

Sabè yawned, slowly making her way up the cobblestone road. Her feet were heavy and getting no sleep last night hadn't helped. Padmè kept waking up at all hours screaming out _his_ name and each time she would run into her room trying to console her.

" _Anakin I'm here, where are you? Anakin?"_ she cried looking around the room in a complete panic. When she finally awoke she would just drop her head down on her shoulders in complete hysteria. It was one of the worst nights she'd experienced in the last nine months.

After a few more steps, she could see the flower stall in the distance and smiled. "Can always rely on Estelle," she said to herself, quickening her pace.

The old woman caught sight of her from across the street and flashed her a warm grin, waving enthusiastically. Sabè crossed the road and headed over to her, keeping her robe pulled in tight.

"Good morning Sabè, I'm so glad to see they didn't scare you off," Estelle said, preparing the special bouquet.

"Well you know me, I just love being the centre of attention." She watched as her hands shakily shuffled the blooms around, noticing the way her fingers trembled. "Business is a bit slow this morning I take it."

She paused what she was doing momentarily to glance around the quiet market. "It's not surprising really. The Empire is tearing the city apart. The people are scared to leave their homes, Sabè."

The old woman wrapped the flowers in decorative tissue and handed them over the stand. Sabè picked them up and gave her the credits. "They look beautiful as always Estelle, thank you so much. I'm sure business will pick up once the Empire leaves, I just hope it's sooner rather than later."

"We all hope that my lady. Now be careful on your journey back, it's a dangerous time to be out and about."

The handmaiden laughed. "A few troopers are hardly enough to stop me, you should know that by now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good-bye Sabè," the old woman chuckled waving her off as she headed back down the road.

Walking through the city streets, there was a noticeable absence of life. Plumes of smoke swirled in the sky, originating from all corners of Theed. Distant echoes of blaster fire hung on the air and the smouldering smell was nauseating. As she reached the dock she spotted another Imperial checkpoint at the head of the road. Four clone troopers were stationed at it with a couple of scout bikes parked behind them.

It seemed as if they were positioned at every major corner now, blocking off all main arterial roads both in and out of the city. She sighed slowly walking towards them.

Their white helmeted heads looked up at her and they called out once she got close. "Stop. Let's see your identification papers."

Sabè groaned, tucking the bouquet of flowers up under her arm and pulling out her ID from her pocket. "Here," she snapped shoving it out in the air. "Don't you lot have anything better to do than harass innocent civilians this early in the morning?"

"Standard procedure ma'am," the trooper replied looking over her documents. He turned to his comrades and nodded before turning back to her. "She's clear, move along."

She snatched her papers back and stuffed them down into her pockets with a huff, storming down to the city outskirts.

• • •

Sabè stopped at the elevated walkway entrance and quietly stared at the mausoleum. Beams of sunlight were just beginning to peak out from behind the mountains creating a rather peculiar light show on the plains below. Deep dark shadowy patches contrasted with the bright warm hues of the landscape wherever the rising sun touched.

But she couldn't help but notice the absence of the two guards by the doorway. They were always there. Everyday since this all begun, it seemed odd that they would suddenly be called away.

She pressed on, crossing the platform. It was a routine after all, and routines were her thing. Her quirk. Hesitating at the entrance she slowly walked inside tugging the edges of her robe in tighter. Her foot knocked a few small pieces of stone along the passage in front of her.

 _Strange, I don't remember all this being here yesterday,_ she mused continuing down the corridor.

Rounding the bend she reached the doorway to Padmè's tomb and started to unwrap the flowers. A sudden chill ripped through her veins rooting her feet to the floor. That sound. She recognized that sound. The strange rasping and humming.

 _KHOOSH_ _PUUHR_. _KHOOSH_ _PUUHR_. _KHOOSH_ _PUUHR_.

Her hands started to shake as she stared into the chamber completely paralysed. A shadow moved at the foot of the sarcophagus and she knew she wasn't alone. The darkness grew, rising slowly from the floor until it blocked out all light coming from the stained-glass window.

It was difficult to see in the dark, but she recognized him from the quadrangle. The cape, the helmet and the sheer size of him not to mention the breathing.

The two parties stood staring at each other in complete silence for what felt like eternity. The dark figure lifted his hand, holding it out like he was trying to touch the handmaiden from across the room.

"Padmè?" the deep baritone voice rumbled from the window.

 _This_ _thing_ _thinks_ _I_ _am Padmè_? She mused.

 _Wait ... he said her name. He knew her. He knew Padmè?_

Sabè gasped. The flowers suddenly fell from her hands, their tiny purple and white petals floating gracefully in the air before cascading onto the floor by her feet.

"It's ... it's ... you're _him_ ... aren't you?" she whispered, choking on the words. "I ... I can't belie- oh my." Not giving him a chance to reply, she turned and bolted from the room, running as fast as her legs could carry her.

A deafening roar echoed from the tomb behind her and she heard the thundering of his boots in pursuit. The walls started to shake and tiny pieces of rock crumbled down from the roof, scattering across the circular chamber. She had to get away, she needed to get to Padmè. Heart pounding she ran down the elevated platform and glanced back. He was still in the building, she still had a chance.

Deciding to disappear, she hightailed it from the walkway and sprinted for the neighbouring forest, praying to Shiraya that she would keep her safe. Her lungs were on fire as she scurried passed bushes and jumped over logs, the jagged twigs and branches tugging and tearing at her robe. Glancing continuously over her shoulder, she watched for his shadowy figure - waiting for it to suddenly appear behind her.

The mausoleum was obscured by trees now and she could no longer make out the walkway. Panting and puffing she narrowly missed the fallen log by her feet and skipped over it. Something grabbed at her foot and she crashed to the ground, smacking her head on a moss-covered boulder, knocking her out cold.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 _Sorry (but not sorry) for the cliff-hanger. The action picks up from here on in, and to be honest I'm really enjoying writing this one. Vader is such a tormented soul and I just love pulling him left and right. His self-pity ends here and it becomes pretty obvious in the following chapters._

 _No this isn't just another sob story wo-is-me love story._

 _Call-out to_ _ **Sfloresf**_ _and_ _ **Lyn79**_ _for your reviews, and to "_ _ **Guest**_ _" sorry your pen name didn't come up._

 _ **Sfloresf**_ _: I am so humbled by your support, your energetic and heartfelt words always brighten my day._

 _ **Lyn79**_ _: I am so glad you are enjoying it, I hope it lives up to your expectations as the story continues._

 _As always_

MTFBY.


	9. Chapter 7: Cruciatus

**Chapter 7: Cruciatus**

Ferus ran from the tent with Caleb and Jaina hot on his heels. The force had screamed at him, showing the way and he knew he needed to follow. They'd all heard the spine-tingling roar only minutes earlier, surmising that it had originated from the mausoleum. The warning rang through the force immediately after, prompting them to spring into action. "There! By the trees," he exclaimed pointing ahead. "Someone's hurt."

The three Jedi stopped by the incapacitated woman lying on the ground between the trees and immediately moved to help her.

"That's her," Jaina stated crouching down, "the woman from the mausoleum. That's Sabè."

Her deep green velvet robe was in tatters, small twigs and dust littered her dark brown braid and blood covered the underside of her face, pooling on the boulder beneath.

Ferus moved to the other side and bent over, inspecting her injuries. "Her head's bleeding, looks like she hit it pretty hard."

Caleb paced back and forth between the bushes keeping his eyes focused on their surroundings. He was on edge, still feeling the dark energy nearby. "Can we hurry this up a bit? That Sith is still out there," he snapped, glancing back at them impatiently.

"Caleb, come here and help me lift her. We need to get her back to camp," Ferus said, moving his hands behind her head.

The two men carefully pulled Sabè up from the ground, the padawan at her feet and the master with her shoulders. They carried her through the trees and back to the tent, placing her gently down on the bed inside.

"Jaina, grab the bacta patches and some bandages. Caleb bring me that canteen and some wash cloths. We need to clean the wound and stop the bleeding."

The two padawans retrieved the supplies and sat either side of the older Jedi while he tended to her injuries. He poured water onto one of the wash cloths and methodically dabbed it around her forehead, wiping away the blood and dirt. Satisfied that it was clean enough, he grabbed a bacta patch and smoothed it out over the cut, then started to bandage her up.

"Do you think she'll be alright, Master?" Jaina asked.

Ferus tied off the dressing, laid her head back down on the pillow and sat back. "I'm sure she'll be fine Jaina, she's just concussed. Her breathing is normal and her pulse is strong. She's just going to have one hell of a headache when she wakes up."

Standing up, Caleb folded his arms and started to pace around the tent glancing down at their newest accomplice briefly. "That Sith had been in there for hours before she disturbed it. Why do you think it was in there? What significance could it possibly have?"

Jaina gently pulled the twigs and debris from Sabè's hair, trying to keep her mind occupied. Overthinking and reading too much into coincidental instances was the curse of the _Jedi_ _Diviner_ , and she - still a learner not fully understanding her role in it all - often found herself getting lost in the 'what ifs'.

Placing the first aid equipment back in his rucksack, the older Jedi sighed, gently shrugging his slumped shoulders. "Who knows my young padawan. But if the noise that boomed from over there was anything to go by, my guess is, that it wasn't too happy about being interrupted," he said.

Jaina traced her fingers over Sabè's forehead, staring at her empathetically. "Perhaps, when she wakes up, she'll be able to tell us more," she whispered, not taking her eyes off the unconscious woman.

The master glanced down at the young blonde, seemingly lost in her own musings and nodded in agreeance. "Perhaps you're right young one," he said softly, slowly walking toward the tent door. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

"E-CHUTA!" Sparks shower over the cybernetic pistons, once again shorting out the servo-motors in my right leg. I hurl the useless driver across the circular chamber in disgust, watching it bounce repeatedly off the sandstone floor and smash into the center pyre.

Clenching my fists, I grind my teeth, pulling my left leg up toward my chest and push back against the wall. The small fragments of rock crackle beneath my combat boot as it scrapes over the ground. Trapped from the haphazard way I landed, the weighty cloak pulls on my shoulders each time I move.

It seems every artificial piece of me is prone to failure, only this time the result had been catastrophic; dropping me to the ground like a dead-weight, giving _her_ the perfect opportunity to escape.

And now I'd lost the only link to possibly discovering the truth of my wife's demise. Failure. I despise it. Yet more and more its repulsive face rises to greet me - ever since I'd been placed inside this worthless excuse for a walking coffin.

Surely there were better, more advanced prosthetics at his disposal at the time, especially considering how many years had passed since I got my new hand - after _Dooku_ so kindly lopped it off. Even that is better than these faulty hunks of scrap metal so rudimentarily attached to me now.

 _Unless_ of course _he_ wanted me to remain this way, easily paralysed and controllable. He, like the Jedi, being potentially afraid of what I might evolve into. The more I think on it, the more plausible and irritating the notion becomes.

Holding my gloved hand out, I use the force to call the driver. It levitates from the floor, flies across the room and thuds back into my outstretched palm. Whether that _was_ his intention or not, dwelling on it isn't solving my _current_ situation, and I return to the laborious task of repairing my leg.

After reattaching the wires and securing the panels, I try once more to move it. Finally my foot flexes and the servo-motors engage, the high-pitched whine and grind of the components responding correctly. With a few test exercises of bending my leg up and relaxing it back to the floor, I am satisfied that it is at least capable of holding out for a few more days – or at least until I return to the Exactor.

Grabbing my boot, I slowly tug it up over my foot, drawing it towards my knee, then reach for the durasteel shin-plate.

 _BEEP, BEEP. BEEP, BEEP._

The glossy armour drops to the floor and I pull out the comm-unit from my utility belt. It buzzes into activation, the hazy blue image of Commander Appo coming to life.

" _Lord Vader?"_ his voice crackles amidst the static.

"Yes. What is it Commander?" I snap, irritated by the sudden interruption. He hesitates, clearly sensing my apparent disapproval at his choice of timing.

" _My Lord, several checkpoints have come under attack. It would seem the Queen is retaliating Sir."_

"She's what? Since when Commander?" I growl back.

" _Sometime during the night Sir. I have been trying to reach you on your comm, but it failed to connect."_

I clench my jaw, gritting my teeth together. Of course everything would go wrong at the one chance I have to say goodbye. Why wouldn't it? Barely containing my rising annoyance, I return to the conversation. "Yes. I turned it off. I did not wish to be disturbed."

He hesitates again, clearly my growing frustration was not as well concealed as I had initially thought.

" _What would you have us do My Lord?"_

Rolling my eyes behind the mask, I growl in frustration. Rex would never have needed me to think for him like this. Sure Commander Appo was competent _enough_ , but not nearly as forward thinking and responsive as Rex. I snap out of the reflection and return to the comm: "Pull the outlying troops back to the city. Reinforce all checkpoints closest to base and hold firm. I will return shortly."

" _Yes Sir. Appo out."_

Snatching the shin-plate from beside my leg, I reattach it, and secure it into position. _Right, let's see how this goes._ Bracing both hands against the floor, I push myself upright, waiting for the prosthetic to fail again. The servo-motors whine, engaging and locking into position and I stagger back to my full height once more.

 _Good. At least I'm still good at fixing things, not that I ever envisioned having to fix myself._ I brush the dust and dirt from my suit and adjust the cloak, returning the chain to its proper place around my neck. I glance back down the corridor and then to the exit. Back to the corridor and then to the exit.

Not being able to feel her irks me, and I can't shake the feeling that I have somehow missed something. The dark side has returned my focus, clearing my head and allowing me to think more objectively. The force is whispering, urging me to go back in there. I know it's wrong, but I must see her – I need the affirmation.

With a flourish of my cloak, I stride down the corridor mentally preparing myself for what I am about to do. Stopping before the sarcophagus, I draw in two ragged breaths and grasp the stone lid in my hands.

"Forgive me Angel," I rumble, drawing on the darkness. Using all my strength and the force as my ally, I heave the solid stone sideways, dragging it away from the base. It grates and grinds, shuddering and snagging across the ridged surface. With it now half-off, the inside of the sarcophagus is visible and I stutter in a breath to control my nerves.

Tilting my head down, so I can see inside through the lenses of my mask, I stare at the image before me.

Fire; it rises inside like the lava that birthed me. The rolling tempest twisting and swelling, driving all rational thought away. The walls shake and the ground vibrates. In a fit of fury, the lid catapults across the chamber and crashes to the floor, shattering to pieces. My chest is heaving, the respirator struggling to keep up with my sudden onset of emotion. Gripping onto the sides of the barren tomb, I glare at the vacant stone base and the rock starts to crumble and crack beneath my iron grasp.

"WHERE ... ARE ... YOU?" I bellow, my booming robotic voice rebounding and bouncing off the deceitful chamber walls.

In a flash; fully consumed by the dragon within; I whirl on my heel and charge from the chamber, thundering down the corridor and out onto the elevated walkway, my midnight cape flapping behind in my wake.

* * *

The net curtains tugged and twisted in the late morning breeze, dancing across the open window. Sunlight bleached the plush red carpet, stretching up over the corners of the luxurious silk quilt. Chestnut curls splayed out across the white pillow, cascading around the former Queen's head. She subconsciously pulled the blankets up under her chin in an attempt to combat the sudden chill in the air. Her eyelids gently fluttered, the thick black lashes twitching from the movement.

With a loud gasp, Padmè suddenly sprang up from her pillow, startled awake and stared blindly around her room. She sat shaken and confused for a minute, rubbing her eyes and struggling to come to. "Sabè?" she called out, holding the blanket up against her chest.

No one came. Sabè had been staying in the room next to her and she usually heard her when she called.

"What time is it?" she said to herself, turning to check her chrono on the bedside table. "Force, it's after ten. Why didn't anyone wake me?"

Yanking the blankets back, she threw her legs over the bed and jumped up, running into her wardrobe. She grabbed her dressing gown and headed for the door, bolting down the stairs.

Jobal was sitting at the table by the kitchen, sipping her tea and reading her datapad. Padmè all but ran towards her. "Mum, have you seen Sabè? She's usually back by now," she asked, her voice pitched with panic.

Her mother's deep brown eyes turned to meet her. "Why no dear I haven't. I wouldn't worry over it though, she probably needed to run some errands," her silken voice replied. "Why don't you go and get yourself a cup of tea and sit here with me, we could even go out into the garden if you like, it's a lovely day outside."

Padmè shook her head. Something was wrong, she could feel it. Sabè was never this late. "I'll think about it, I'm just going to call her first. I need to know everything is alright."

Jobal sighed and returned her attention to the datapad on the table, picking up her tea. "Suit yourself dear. I'll be here if you change your mind." She took a sip from her cup and continued to browse the terminal.

Turning back to the staircase, Padmè ran up to her room and over to the bedside table, grabbing her comm-unit. She sat down on her bed, entered in her handmaiden's frequency and waited. It beeped and buzzed a few times before disconnecting. "Come on Sabè, pick up," she stressed, entering the frequency once more.

" _Hello?"_ a Male voice echoed over the comm.

Padmè's eyes went wide in horror. The unit trembled in her hands as she fought not to drop it. "Who is this?" she demanded. "Where is Sabè?"

" _Sabè is with us. She is injured but safe. Who am I speaking to?"_

She ground her teeth and jumped to her feet, pacing back and forth across the window. "I believe I asked _you_ that first," she bit back.

There was a silent pause, filled with static, before the voice spoke again.

" _My name is Ferus. Your friend is here, but she is unconscious. Please, I mean both of you no harm. Can we bring her to you? Is there somewhere safe and private that we can meet?"_

Padmè stopped pacing and stared at the comm in disbelief. She didn't want to give her name out to this stranger. After all they could be an Imperial spy or worse ... a bounty hunter. "My name is ..." she hesitated trying to think up a plausible alias, but also one that her husband would instantly recognize if he ever chanced to hear it. "My name is Shmi ... Shmi Skywalker. Come to the dock by the far side of Lake Varykino. I can meet you there at noon."

" _Well Mrs Skywalker, my friends and I will bring Sabè there to you. Please, keep this meeting a secret, we are trying to avoid attracting too much Imperial attention."_

His voice was calm, controlled and educated. She couldn't help but wonder who this new stranger was, but a girl could hope right? "I'm sorry, Ferus. But can I ask where you found her?" Padmè enquired her curiosity starting to run rampant.

" _In the forest, by the mausoleum, my lady. She fell and bumped her head. We took her back to camp when we found her."_

"What are your friend's names? I'm sorry it's just, I'm not usually accustomed to meeting strangers out by the lake, without at least knowing the names of the people I'm meeting."

" _No need to apologize Mrs Skywalker. Their names are Caleb and Jaina, they helped me find her and bring her back."_

Padmè's heart soared and sank both at the same time. Jaina was the name of the Jedi Sabè had said she'd met, and at the mausoleum too. A small part of her had foolishly hoped that Anakin may have been with them, but it was just that – foolish hope. He would've recognized Sabè instantly, of that she was certain. And with the dreams she'd been having lately, it got easier to believe that he was still alive and nearby somewhere.

"Very well, Ferus, I will meet you by the Lake at noon," she said moving to stand in front of the window.

" _Will do my lady, may the force be with you,"_ he replied before the static hiss abruptly returned.

Dropping the comm down on the bed, the former Queen bolted into the fresher and turned on the shower, needing to get ready for her Jedi rendezvous.

* * *

"Skywalker?" Jaina asked, staring up at Ferus holding the comm. "But isn't that...?"

The older Jedi began to pace around the tent, scratching his head deep in thought. "Yes, Jaina it was. Although it may just be a coincidence," he muttered.

"Is that a common name, Master?" Caleb asked cocking his brow. "I mean, surely they're not related are they?"

Ferus locked gazes with the two young padawans before glancing down at the woman on his bed. He folded his arms and sighed. "No it's not a particularly common name Caleb," he said walking over to the transmitter and sitting down beside it. "But we can find out more when we see her."

* * *

 **TATOOINE**

The twin suns were just beginning to set, sliding down behind the barren wasteland that had become his new home. On the horizon, a swirling mass was forming, growing in size, rising up to swallow the setting red orbs. A gust of hot wind whipped at his heavy brown robe, and he pulled it in tight to keep out the sand on the air.

"So uncivilized," he groaned, turning on his heel and trudging back inside the secluded hovel. It wasn't much but then again, he didn't need much, just the essentials. Stroking his auburn beard, he headed into the modest kitchen, and prepared a mug of tea.

On the small wooden table just outside the kitchen, the transmitter buzzed into life, signalling an incoming call. He sighed, dragging his weathered hand up through his shaggy, sand-filled hair and walked over to the table, sitting down in the solitary chair positioned alongside it.

He pressed the receiver, activating the transmission. "Kenobi here, come in Ferus," he said, slumping back into the seat and taking a sip from his cup.

" _Obi-wan, how'd you go with that extraction?"_ Ferus asked.

He shook the particles of sand out from his hair and sat back, crossing his leg up over his knee then resting his cup on top. "Bail Organa is sending Captain Antilles out tomorrow to pick you up." He took another sip from his tea, closed his eyes and yawned. The long Tatooine days were tiring and he was still struggling to adjust to the vicious climate.

" _That's great news, thank you."_

"If there's nothing else Ferus, I really need to be heading off. I'm exhausted."

" _Just one more thing Obi-wan."_

The weary Jedi sighed, draining the remaining tea from his cup. "What is that?"

" _Did Anakin ever have any relatives?"_

Obi-wan choked, lurching forward in his seat. "No, I don't believe so. Why do you ask?" he snapped.

" _Well I've just spoken to this woman on Naboo. She claims to be a Skywalker."_

The cup fell from Obi-wan's hand and smashed onto the floor at his feet. He leapt towards the transmitter bracing himself against the table. "Impossible, you must have heard it wrong."

" _No, she definitely said Skywalker. Anyway we're meeting her in just over an hour so I'll see what I can find out."_

"Yes do that Ferus. I want to know who she is. As soon as you have more information contact me immediately."

" _Sure thing Obi-wan. Talk to you later. Olin out."_

Obi-wan dropped back in the chair and stroked his beard staring out into the air. It couldn't be Padmè, she was dead. He was there when the droids pronounced it. But who else would use his name? And why?

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 _Well, here we go. That was the last of the build up, Vader is pissed, Obi-wan is in shock and Padmè is about to meet her new Jedi friends._

 _They all start to collide in the next chapter and then the fun really begins. Hold on to your butts._

 _ **Sfloresf:**_ _yep, he's a bit of an over-thinker, young Vader. Still trapped by his past and unable to shake it. It only makes him more unstable and more entertaining._

 _ **Lyn79:**_ _hang on to your seat, because our boy in black just despises being lied to. As the web untangles and the truth is revealed, will he beg for her forgiveness or just take what belongs to him?_

 _Thanks for reading._

 _MTFBWY_


	10. Chapter 8: Matris Furore

**Chapter 8: Matris Furore**

Blaster fire rained down from every corner. In the distance, hidden behind two nearby buildings huddled a team of local soldiers. Their black helmets ducked out and they opened fire.

A red laser bolt flew passed Commander Appo's helmet and he ducked for cover behind the scout bike.

"Where is he?" one of the troopers asked, crouching down alongside him.

Three more shots flashed passed them. The white duraplast armour rattled as Appo pulled his blaster to his chest plate. He turned to the trooper. "He _will_ be here," he said.

The company jumped up from behind the bike and returned fire, their weapons drowning the area in rapid bolts. A scream coursed through the street and one of the black suited soldiers collapsed to the ground.

"Got one!" one of the troopers exclaimed.

"Good, keep firing!" Appo ordered. Something glinted in the light, hurtling through the air toward them. "A thermal! Get down!" he cried, dropping to the floor.

The spherical device flew overhead, ticking. It suddenly froze mid-air, suspended directly above them. The troopers stared up from the floor at the contraption seemingly stuck in its trajectory and then glanced around.

Standing behind them, black cloak floating in the wind, was Vader. His midnight helmet and armour glistened in the sun and his gloved hand was extended, holding the detonator with the force. He hurled the explosive down the street, sending it catapulting back to where the soldiers where hiding. With a blinding flash the corridor between the two buildings exploded, launching the remaining members of the Naboo Royal Guard into the streets. Their bodies crashed to the ground and debris and smoke filled the intersection.

Amongst the carnage, one of the fallen bodies began to move, slowly rising onto his knees in the middle of the road. There was a sudden snap hiss, and the dark lord immediately charged forward, his red lightsaber thrumming in his hand. Striding across the cobblestone, he moved to the fallen soldier and loomed over him. Without hesitation, the blood red blade plunged through the man's back and out through his chest.

Vader kicked the lifeless man to the ground and whirled to face his men by the scout bike. Deactivating his blade, he holstered it to his belt and folded his arms, staring at the troopers.

"Commander," his deep voice boomed.

"Yes my lord," Appo replied, standing to attention.

"Call all troops back to base at once."

"Abandon the checkpoints, sir?"

A rumbling growl resonated from his mask. "Do I need to repeat myself, Commander?"

"No Lord Vader."

"Good." With a flourish of his cape, he strode past them, thumping down the street and disappearing around the corner.

• • •

Standing at the foot of the steps, my men gather before me, a sea of white awaiting my instruction. Hooking my hands to my belt I stare out at my legion, watching the Commanders make their way through the crowd to my side. I need to draw the Jedi out of hiding. I'm tired of the hunt, my mind in turmoil after seeing my wife's empty tomb.

Raising my hand in the air, I clench my fist to call for silence. Their white helmets all turn toward me.

"Queen Apailana has declared war on the Empire and must now be removed from power. Gather your things and prepare for battle, in two hours we march on the palace."

The thunder of hundreds of armoured boots stomping to attention fill the air and I turn and stride through the door. Appo and the other Commanders march in behind, following me into the temporary war room.

I take my place at the head of the large rectangular table, waiting for them to join me. Their five armoured bodies file in through the door and they spread out around the table. Activating the holo-projector, I bring up the map of the royal palace and lower my hands to rest on the mahogany surface.

"Men, this is more than just a routine search and destroy exercise. Under no circumstances is the Queen to be killed, I want her alive," I snarl.

"Alive my lord?" Appo asks.

The other four troopers turn their helmets toward me, and I rise to my full height, hooking my hands in my belt. "Yes _alive_. We will use her to draw the Jedi out of hiding."

"So we're using her as _bait_ Sir?"

"That is correct Commander. And when they come to rescue her, we will strike them down."

* * *

Sabè's eyes fluttered open. Her head was pounding. Lifting her hands up, she groaned pressing them against her temples. _Where am I? What happened?_ She mused trying to focus on her surroundings.

Overhead was no regular ceiling, but instead some type of khaki green canvas. The bed she was laying on appeared to be similar to that of a military cot, level with the floor, not even three inches thick. There were two smaller ones to either side, positioned around a large electronic device attached to two humming power-cells.

There were voices outside. She could make out at least three different types; one female and two male. _How did I get here?_ She thought to herself, rolling over onto her side. The movement made her head spin and she closed her eyes to combat the ensuing nausea.

The canvas flapped and bright light filtered through her closed eyelids. "Sabè, you're awake," the female voice said. She looked toward the door to see a blurry young woman making her way across the tent.

"Yes," Sabè answered wearily. "I'm sorry my memory is a bit fuzzy. Where am I? How do you know my name?"

The woman knelt down beside her. "My name is Jaina and you're currently at my camp. We met before in the mausoleum. You knew I was a Jedi," she replied.

"Oh, I vaguely remember that," the handmaiden groaned, slowly moving to sit up. "What happened? How did I get here?"

The padawan crossed her legs and got comfortable. "Well, it's kinda hard to explain but, we think you were running from something and tripped, hitting your head on a rock. We patched you up as best we could, but our medical supplies are unfortunately somewhat limited."

Sabè's vision slowly began to clear, and she could just make out the distinctive blonde braid and blue eyes of the young Jedi. She rubbed her eyes and tried to smile. "Well, thank you, I guess," she said. Bracing her hands either side of her legs, she moved to stand. "But I really need to be going, my mistress will be worried about me."

Jaina quickly shuffled around and guided her swaying body back down to the bed. "There's no need to rush. Shmi has already contacted us. We are meeting her in just over half an hour. She knows you're safe."

Eyebrows cocked in confusion, the handmaiden stared at her Jedi friend. "Shmi? Who is Shmi?" she asked.

The young padawan chuckled softly. "You really have lost your memory haven't you. Your 'mistress', Shmi Skywalker, rang your comm-unit and we answered. She was very concerned for your wellbeing. We are meeting her at Lake Varykino shortly, if you are up for the travel."

 _Skywalker._ That was his last name. _Of course!_ She turned her foggy brown eyes to the young blonde and forced a smile. "Oh yes, my apologies. I'm sure I'll be fine for the trip Jaina, thank you."

The tent door flapped again and Ferus came stumbling inside. "Oh good she's awake. How are you feeling my lady?" he asked.

Sabè glanced up at the older man, clad in the typical brown Jedi robes and sighed. "I'm well enough thank you. Just a little surprised to be sitting here with two Jedi."

"Three actually," Ferus corrected, moving to pick up his pack from beside the door. "Caleb, my other padawan is waiting outside. You are very lucky we found you Sabè, your head took quite a beating."

Rubbing her hand over the bandage, the handmaiden winced. She tried to recall how she fell or why she was even running in the first place, but nothing revealed itself.

A sudden shrill beeping echoed in the tent and Ferus fumbled in his robe pocket, pulling out his comm. He shot an apologetic look to the two women and bowed his head. "Please excuse me for a minute, I need to take this." He turned and exited the tent, pulling the canvas closed behind him.

" _My Queen, how may I be of service?"_

" _Ferus, Captain Antilles of the Tantive III has just made contact. He wishes to advise that he will be reaching orbit in just over three standard hours. He is sending a shuttle to pick you up from the palace hangar."_

" _Thank you my lady, he is arriving sooner than I expected, that is indeed good news."_

" _But I have to warn you, the city is under siege. You must be careful Ferus, there are troopers everywhere and the Emperor's mercenary, Lord Vader, is still here looking for you."_

" _So that's his name. Thank you for the warning my lady, please advise Captain Antilles that we will be ready and waiting."_

* * *

 **TANTIVE III: EN-ROUTE TO NABOO**

The proximity alarms wailed.

"Captain, preparing to drop out of light-speed," Commander Colton announced, glancing over his shoulder.

Captain Antilles sat in his large co-pilot's seat beside him. His long piano fingers flicked at the nav-computer, plotting in the coordinates for the following jump. Deep brown eyes stared distantly at the screen as he contemplated the impending confrontation with the Empire. "Coordinates are all set Colton. The next hyper-lane intersects at Arrgaw," he replied.

"Making our final approach, exiting hyperspace in t-minus five," Colton said.

The view port window was blanketed by steady gleaming streaks of white and whirling blue light. Both Captain and Commander held onto the yokes preparing for exit.

The countdown continued. "Disengaging hyperdrive in four ... three ... two ... one," Colton announced, tapping the controls. He pulled back on the large t-shaped lever.

The cockpit shuddered and the bright ribbons disintegrated, morphing into tiny stars, sparkling amidst the stark blackness of space. Antilles turned to his Commander, a nervous glint in his aged blue eyes. "The Empire will be waiting for us at Naboo, Colton. Who knows what we're flying into."

"We've outrun them before Captain, we can do it again. I only hope our cargo is waiting at the pick-up point when we get there, so we can get out quick," Colton said. The corner of his lip twitched into a slight smile and he turned back to the nav-computer. "You ready Raymus?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Antilles muttered, doing a final check on the coordinates. He pushed his hat back, wiped the small beads of sweat from his brow and sighed. "Alright, let's go get our Jedi. For the Republic."

"Yes, for the Republic."

The white Corvette turned port-side, moving into position for the next hyper-lane. Her bright orange thrusters blazed into life and she lurched forward, vanishing into the stars.

* * *

 **NABOO: LAKE VARYKINO DOCK**

Padmè paced back and forth beside the pier, waiting nervously for the Jedi to arrive with her handmaiden. Her burgundy velvet cloak drifted in the breeze and she held on to the hood to keep her face hidden. She could see the rising smoke drifting high above the city, it was getting thicker, tinting the midday sun grey. Behind her the gondolier was waiting, the idling skiff motor humming away in the still water.

She caught sight of a small group making their way down the road towards her. They had just breached the residential streets of the Lake Country precinct, four figures; three cloaked in brown floor length robes. Her heart fluttered. It had been so long since she'd last seen a Jedi, that she'd almost forgotten how official they looked in their uniforms. _Almost_. The image of one still constantly plagued her memories and dreams. His flowing black robe. The way his tabard drifted with his swift gait. She sighed.

 _He_ wasn't with them, but Sabè was. She was staggering along, her arms supported by the two Jedi beside her. She ran towards them. "Sabè, I was so worried. Are you alright? What happened?" Padmè cried.

The handmaiden stopped and the two Jedi released her arms. "I don't remember much my lady. One minute I was at the mausoleum and the next I was in a tent. Everything between that is a mystery," she replied distantly.

Throwing her arms around her, the former Queen pulled her tight to her chest. They held onto each other for a few moments before Padmè slowly pulled back, glancing between the three Jedi standing around them. "Thank you for taking her in. I don't know what I'd do without her," she said.

Ferus nodded. "It's quite alright, Mrs Skywalker. It's what we do," he replied with a smile.

She sighed again, briefly looking to the floor. "I know." Lifting her eyes, she scanned the three faces standing before her. One older with fair skin and brown eyes. The boy had golden tanned skin with deep blue eyes and the girl was pale with lighter blue eyes and a long blonde braid. She didn't recognize any of them. "Can I do anything to repay your kindness?" she asked.

Jaina and Caleb both locked stares with their adopted Jedi master. They all had questions. Questions that desperately needed to be answered. Ferus turned to the woman and smiled once more. "Is there somewhere private we can talk? My padawans and I have a few questions we were hoping you might be able to answer if you don't mind," he said.

"Of course, come. We can go to the lake house," she replied. She turned and gestured to the gondolier waiting behind her.

• • •

Jaina stood by the ancient stone balustrade watching the sun sparkle over the lake. Leaves rustled in the twisting tree branches that hung overhead and low-lying clouds split the distant mountains behind the water in two. It was so peaceful, and so familiar.

Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, allowing the force to fill her senses. A vision appeared - her dream. Only this time she was the spectator, watching from the shadows as they exchanged their vows. They were standing on this very same balcony, the sun slowly disappearing behind the mountainous horizon. Her twinkling ivory wedding dress, his heavy brown Jedi robe and the distinctive gold glint of his metallic hand gently taking hers. As he bent down to kiss her, the black shadow finally lifted revealing his face.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

The soft voice startled the young Jedi and she quickly turned around. The moment she caught sight of her deep hazel eyes and flowing chestnut curls, she understood the vision's significance. She nodded gently, turning back to face the lake and resting her hands upon the railing. "It is," Jaina answered. "The sunsets here must be breathtaking."

Padmè sighed and moved to stand beside her. "I always imagined raising my family here. Away from the chaos ... and the war. But I guess it was all just a fantasy."

"It must've been so hard," Jaina mused, staring out over the water.

The former queen turned to stare curiously at the young padawan. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Never knowing if and when he would come back. Keeping your marriage a secret so he wouldn't be expelled from the order," she replied, slowly turning to face her.

Tears welled in her eyes. Months of pain and heartache abruptly rose to the surface, threatening her already faltering composure. "You ... you _know_ about us?" she stammered, fighting the rising lump in her throat. "How?"

"I've been having dreams of your wedding. Up until now they hadn't made any sense." The young blonde stared at the former queen, her brows tight with confusion. "Then you brought us here and it all became clear. That's why you used the name Skywalker, isn't it? You're Anakin Skywalker's wife."

Padmè choked. Her eyes grew dark as the anger slowly started to build. "You're a _seer_ aren't you?" she snapped, crossing her arms. "That's why you were in my mausoleum wasn't it. You were looking for answers."

Jaina nodded. She didn't know whether to push her further or not, but she still had so many questions. Turning back to face the lake, she sighed and dropped forward. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs Skywalker. I can't begin to imagine how it must feel."

Padmè folded her arms and turned away. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry but couldn't bring herself to do either. "My _loss_?" she hissed. "What do you mean, _my_ _loss_?" She spun back around, glaring at the young padawan. "Do you know something? Have you seen him?"

"No my lady. I'm sorry. My master told me that he died at the temple during the purge," Jaina backpedalled, instantly regretting the statement.

"Who told him that?"

The two women's eyes locked. Hazel met blue and the air was cold as ice. Jaina swallowed. "I ... I think it was Master Kenobi, my lady."

The former queen's heart pounded in her chest. So this was a sign. Perhaps these Jedi could lead her to her children. If so she would need to control her temper until she had them back in her arms. Safe and with their mother. Where they belong. "Tell me Jaina, does he speak with Obi-wan often? I would very much love to talk to him again, you know for old times sake."

Jaina smiled at her sudden change of heart and moved toward her. "He spoke with him just this morning. Master Kenobi has arranged for Captain Antilles to take us back to Alderaan. Maybe you and Sabè could come with us."

"I would like that." Padmè feigned a smile, spun around and walked back into the Lake house, leaving the young Jedi alone on the balcony. She strode up to Ferus who was busy talking with Caleb and Sabè. "Ferus?" she asked.

His deep brown eyes darted over. "Yes Mrs Skywalker?" he answered.

She folded her arms over her chest and stood tall. "Your padawan just informed me that you know how to reach Obi-wan Kenobi. I need to speak with him."

Sabè stared at her mistress in disbelief, both at the revelation and her sudden aggressive behaviour. She went to speak when Padmè's hand shot into the air to silence her.

"Shmi I don't know that I ..." Ferus started to say when the former queen cut him off.

"First of all my name is not Shmi, it's Padmè Amidala Skywalker. Anakin is my husband and I know that Obi-wan would be very interested in speaking with me. We have a lot of _unfinished_ business that needs to be addressed. Now can you contact him or not?"

Ferus was gobsmacked. He stared at the deceased former queen standing before him slack-jawed. He glanced between the woman and his padawan and then to Jaina as she entered the room. "Do you have a long-range transmitter my lady?" he asked hesitantly.

Sabè nodded and ran into the comm-room to fetch the transmitter. She placed it on the rug by their feet and stepped back.

Glaring at the Jedi master on the couch Padmè tapped her foot impatiently. "Go on Master Olin, I'm waiting," she snapped.

He glanced up at her and then entered the frequency. His fingers nervously tapped on his knees as he waited for his old friend to respond.

The static hiss shifted and a voice crackled over the receiver. _"Kenobi here, come in Ferus."_

"Obi-wan I have someone here who wishes to speak with you," the Jedi answered staring up at the former queen nervously.

" _First did you find out anything?"_

Padmè stepped in front of Ferus and shot him an annoyed glare before speaking. "Obi-wan where is Anakin and what have you done with our children?" she snarled.

Static filled the room. Seconds silently ticked passed before he finally responded. _"No, I don't believe it. Padmè is that really you?"_ his wavering voice questioned.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 _I've had to split this chapter into two parts because it got too long. I hope you're all enjoying it. I wanted to empower Padmè in this story. Being a mother myself, if someone had taken my children and husband from me I'd be furious._

 _Call out to_ _ **Sfloresf**_ _and_ _ **phhsdj**_ _for your reviews. Thankyou so much for your feedback._

 _MTFBWY_


	11. Chapter 9: Minimo

**Chapter 9: Minimo**

 _(BLINDING LIGHT)_

The palace was overrun. Clone troopers covered every exit and the sound of continuous blaster fire echoed on the air. Queen Apailana stared out her arched throne room window and sighed.

"My lady, I really must insist," a royal guard stated walking toward her.

She turned to stare at her loyal soldier standing by her desk. "Yes you're right, it might be best if we leave," she replied solemnly.

"I'm sorry my lady, but you're no good to your people dead."

"No I understand that Commander." She walked over to her desk and pulled her personal blaster from the drawer then pushed it shut. "We can take the waterfall exit," she said crossing the room. Her heavy silver gown dragged on the floor as she headed for the secret doorway hidden in the wall.

"Let me go first my lady," the guard stated trying to push past.

Her bejewelled head snapped toward him, the delicate crystals jingling with the sudden movement. "There's no need Commander, this passage is secret. It doesn't exist on any of our blueprints."

He moved in behind her, blaster cocked and aimed over her shoulder. She lifted her hand, pressed the decorative insignia on the wall and stepped back. A vertical crack appeared, slowly getting wider. The piece of wall groaned and creaked as it encroached on the throne room floor boards.

The crack expanded, the black space slowly growing until a doorway appeared. The queen turned to her guard and gave him a nervous smile. "Let's go," she said drawing her weapon and taking an uncertain step forward.

They entered the pitch black corridor and huddled against the walls to feel their way through. Their footsteps echoed down the chamber and an icy chill hung on the musty air. In the distance tiny red and green flashing lights suddenly appeared, blinking blindingly in the darkness, slowly getting closer.

 _KHOOSH PUUHR._

 _KHOOSH PUUHR._

 _KHOOSH PUUHR._

The unfamiliar hissing sound reverberated down the passage, freezing them to the spot. The sudden snap-hiss of his lightsaber igniting. The blood-red blade humming violently, lighting up the darkness.

"Going somewhere your highness?" the deep baritone voice announced. His massive boots thudded on the stone floor as he stalked toward them.

The royal guardsman panicked, firing his blaster at the Dark Lord. A flurry of red bolts blazed down the corridor. The crimson plasma sword swept left and right effortlessly deflecting the shots. They whizzed past the bewildered queen and ploughed into her guard at her back. He screamed, crumpling to the ground at her feet.

Heart pounding, Apailana stared at her guard in horror before turning her eyes to the Dark Lord blocking her path. "You monster! You'll never get away with this!" she cried, her blaster trembling in her hand. "When the Senate gets word of what transpired here, the entire galaxy will be demanding your head on a pike!"

"The Senate does not concern me your highness," Vader growled, deactivating his lightsaber. He closed the distance between them and forcefully shoved her in the back. She stumbled forward. "Now move ... before I _make_ you."

He escorted her back into the throne room and roughly pushed her. She tripped over her gown and skidded along the polished floorboards, staring up at the troopers marching through the doors.

Vader hovered menacingly over her and turned his attention to Commander Appo. "Is the palace secure?" he asked, hooking his hands into his belt.

"Locked tight my lord."

"Good. Have your men managed to examine the communication terminals?"

"Yes sir. There have been several messages relayed in the last twenty-four hours. One from a ship identifying as the Tantive III from within the Majoor Sector. It seems we will be entertaining shortly."

Vader tilted his mask down and glanced at the bent over woman beneath him. He clicked one of the controls on his belt, turning on the infrared scopes in his mask. Scanning the Queen, he looked for any abnormalities on her person. Amongst the red and orange heat patterns, a green and blue shadow appeared at her waist, too small for a weapon. He lifted his head and clicked the button on his belt once more, switching off the scope. Holding his gloved hand out, he called the device into his palm.

Turning the oval-shaped unit around in his hands, he examined it. The distinctive grooves in the hand-piece. The small microphone built into the base and the tiny antenna that protruded from the head.

"Standard Jedi issue. So that's how you have been keeping in-contact," he grumbled, striding toward the desk by the window. He spun to face her, his cape swishing with the sudden movement. "Congratulations your highness, you have just sealed their fate."

He flicked two switches on the hilt, activating the distress beacon. Two tiny led lights started flashing and he placed it down on the desk.

"You'll never get them! Ferus is too smart to fall for this!" Apailana declared on her knees.

" _Ferus?"_ Vader snorted, whirling on his heel. "You overestimate him." Clenching his fists, he stalked toward her. "His compassion for you will bring them to me."

Commander Appo crossed the room, brandishing a pair of stun cuffs. He knelt down behind the queen and grabbed her hands, yanking them forcefully behind her back. She cried out. They snapped shut and he stood up, calling his troopers to his side. Their armour rattled as they closed in around her, making sure she couldn't try to escape.

An angry tear slipped down the Queen's face and she glared up at the Sith standing over her. "You're a monster!" she spat.

"So you've said," Vader growled unmoved by the outburst. Flicking his wrist, he called a chair over and lowered his hulking armoured body down into it, so close they were almost touching. "Now, while we wait for your _friends_ to join us, we will discuss the whereabouts of one of your predecessors."

Her deep brown eyes stared at him in confusion. "My _predecessors_?" she asked, shifting her legs beneath her and tugging on the restraints.

He pulled out his lightsaber and twisted the cylindrical hilt methodically around in his hands – toying with it. The temperature in the room plummeted. "Yes," he hissed between his teeth. "Tell me ... what happened to the body of Padmè Amidala?"

* * *

Their yellow speeder idled by the camp. The three Jedi loaded their belongings into the trunk, getting ready for their next departure. Caleb shoved the tent poles into the canvas carry-bag and started to draw the zip. Ferus placed his rucksack into the boot and turned to his padawan. A squealing alarm sounded from each of their robes and the three of them hastily fumbled in their pockets.

Jaina stared up at Ferus shakily holding the comm-unit in her hands. "Master Olin, the Queen?" she gasped.

The older Jedi met her gaze and glanced over at the two women standing by the speeder. "Yes Jaina, I'm afraid it is," he confirmed.

Padmè and her handmaiden both stared at the Jedi master from alongside the speeder. "That's a Jedi distress beacon isn't it?" the former Queen asked.

"Indeed it is," he replied, striding over to the three grunting Kaadu tied to the trees and removing their harnesses. He slapped them on the hindquarters and ushered them off, watching as they ran deep into the forest. He carried the harnesses back to the speeder and tucked them into his rucksack.

Caleb stomped passed and lobbed the tent bag into the speeder, thrusting his hands onto his hips. "We have to do something, Master. She's in trouble because of us, we can't just leave her to be tortured while we run off to another planet. It's not the Jedi way."

Ferus folded his arms and sighed, staring up into the tree canopy. "I know we can't Caleb. But search your feelings, something is off," he mumbled.

"The only thing that is off is your senses old man," Caleb quipped slamming the boot lid to the speeder shut. "The Queen is in trouble and we have to help her. Everything outside of that is irrelevant."

"Caleb!" Jaina scolded.

Padmè stepped forward, crossing her arms over her fitted red tunic. "For force sakes, you two are worse than Obi-wan and Anakin during the clone wars," she chided, pointing at the two men. "Isn't the shuttle picking us up from the palace hangar?"

Both men silently stared and nodded in response, completely speechless at her comparison.

"Then what's the problem?" she argued, starting to pace between them and the speeder. "We go to the palace, rescue the Queen, head for the hangar and jump in the shuttle. I'm not seeing the issue."

"The _issue_ Mrs Skywalker, is the hulking armoured monstrosity of a Sith that is likely to have captured her," Ferus rebutted, folding his own arms in protest.

"A _Sith?_ " Padmè all but choked on the name. Obi-wan's haunting words back at her apartment jumped into her mind and against her will, the memory replayed:

" _Padmè, I need your help. He's in grave danger," Obi-wan wan states solemnly, following closely behind me on the balcony._

 _I spin around to face him, suddenly horrified. "From the Sith?" I snap, not believing his words._

" _From ... himself." He hesitates briefly, his stormy grey eyes staring intently into mine as he lowers his tone. "Padmè," he starts, gently reaching out and touching my shoulder, "Anakin has turned to the dark side."_

She shook the traumatic vision away, refusing to be pulled down by her past. She didn't have time to wallow in her pain if she was going to find her children any time soon. And these Jedi were her ticket to finding them. Furrowing her brows she stood firm and propped her hands onto her hips. "So? Are you three Jedi or _not_? Three against one sounds like pretty good odds to me."

• • •

The yellow speeder pulled up alongside the secret waterfall entrance. Most of the troopers were stationed around the front of the palace, leaving the back half exposed. Ferus stared nervously out the window, not trusting the situation. He glanced down at his tracker, noticing the signal had suddenly shifted locations. "She's been moved to the hangar," he muttered. "He knows we're here."

Caleb bunched the sleeve of his robe up and checked his wrist chrono. "Good, that will save us some time. We've only got thirty minutes until the shuttle arrives," he replied.

Leaning over into the back seat, Padmè gave a confident smirk. "I'll get us in there in five, that will leave you twenty-five minutes to rescue her."

Sabè stared at her mistress, a heavy set fear starting to blossom within her deep brown eyes. The mentioning of the Sith had stirred something inside, festering and whispering as if trying to remind her of something. Try as she might, she couldn't shake it. "My lady, I think we ought to sit this one out. I don't like this," she whispered.

Padmè tapped her on the shoulder and undid her seatbelt. "Nonsense Sabè, it'll be just like the old days. Stop being paranoid."

The group clambered out of the speeder and bolted for the vine covered entrance. Huddling together they followed Padmè through several intersections and down numerous winding corridors until they reached a dead end.

Caleb turned to the former Queen and folded his arms. "I thought you knew where you were going," he groaned between breaths.

Padmè lifted a finger to her lips. "Shhhh. Do you hear that?" she whispered, resting her ear against the wall. There was a faint rattling sound, accompanied by a steady series of rhythmic thuds. "Clone troopers," she breathed.

Jaina closed her eyes and stretched out with the force. A cold chill ripped through her. She rubbed her arms before her eyes suddenly sprung open. "I can't hear it, but I can _feel_ it. He's close. _Very_ close," she whispered.

The group all stopped and stared at each other, unsure of how to proceed. "Well what do we do now?" Sabè asked.

• • •

The palatial chamber was abandoned. Lining either side of the runway stood a row of solid stone columns, stretching up from the vacant duracrete platform and supporting the vaulted dome roof. Parked between the mass of evenly spaced pillars sat a fleet of sleek yellow N-1 Starfighters, each with three main frontal points that poked out over the open deck. Crates and loading machines were scattered here and there, littering the otherwise pristinely kept royal hangar.

Caleb ducked his head out from behind a pillar and glanced around before pulling back and resting against the wall. "Where is everyone?" he asked scratching his head.

The older Jedi checked his tracker again. He pointed to the centre of the runway. "Her signal is coming from right over there," he said.

"Maybe your tracker is broken."

Ferus tucked the device back in his robe and sighed. "Unlikely," he muttered. He turned and gestured to the three women, still waiting by the hidden passage, holding his hand out and signalling for them to stay put. "Come on," he whispered.

Caleb nodded. The two Jedi hesitantly crossed the hangar platform heading to where the signal was coming from. They stopped by one of the discarded crates.

"There," Ferus said pointing to the floor and stepping forward. He bent down to pick up the abandoned comm-unit laying on the ground. "This is the Queen's comm alright," he stated, switching off the distress beacon.

"But where is the Queen?" the padawan questioned, impatiently glancing around the silent hangar.

As if summoned, a thunderous roar of armoured boots drummed from all around them. A full legion of Clone troopers poured out from every corner of the hangar, their weapons clicking and clattering as they formed a circle around them.

Caleb gulped and looked to his master. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he groaned.

Up ahead two massive black blast doors suddenly whooshed open revealing Vader and Queen Apailana. He strode forward shoving her violently into the hangar. She stumbled to a slow walk, her head hung low to her chest.

The two Jedi shrugged out of their robes and dropped them to the floor. Grabbing their lightsabers and widening their stance, they prepared to fight.

The Dark Lord yanked the Queen to a stop and forced her to her knees. Towering over her, his respirator hissing in-and-out, he grasped the metallic hilt of his lightsaber, ignited the crimson blade and plunged it through her back. Her face contorted in horror, but no sound escaped her gaping mouth.

"NO!" Caleb screamed, activating his blue weapon and immediately launching into attack.

"CALEB NO!" Ferus yelled, engaging his green lightsaber and running after him.

Vader pushed the dead matriarch along the floor with his boot and immediately prepared for battle. He pulled his lightsaber into both hands and held it at his waist, watching as the two Jedi charged toward him.

The youngest was the first to make contact, swinging his cerulean saber wildly in the air like the untrained padawan he was. Vader dodged the first swing and countered the next, forcing his bodyweight into the contest. With one heaving push he shoved the young boy from his feet sending him tumbling to the ground.

Then the supposed master was upon him, springing to the boy's defence. He came from the side, sweeping his green blade toward his bicep. Vader had seen it coming, could anticipate his every move. Whirling on his heel, his midnight cape flapping behind him, he parried the strike. The red and green beams clashed, sparking furiously in the air.

The Jedi pulled back and spun away, running to join his padawan now regaining his feet. The two of them readied their weapons, muttering between themselves.

It was now his turn to advance. Turning his mask to the side, he wrenched one of the crates from the platform with the force and hurled it at the two lightsiders. The kaadu-sized alloy cube shot through the air, heading straight for them. They both dropped to the ground and rolled out of range, as he knew they would. Not that it mattered, the point was to distract them; to interrupt their focus.

He charged forward, raising his crimson sword in-line with his shoulder and moved to attack. They moved together this time, the green and blue sabers arcing in sync. He lunged his blade at them, driving it through the air until it cracked with theirs. Once more, the padawan was the first to break formation, pulling his weapon from the contest and flipping over him.

Using the opportunity, Vader force pushed the master across the hangar and spun to intercept the strike at his back. His armoured boots were heavy, interfering with his once graceful gait. Shifting his weight to the other leg, he intensified the assault, unleashing blow after blow after blow at the youngling.

Noticing the padawan's growing fatigue, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed his neck with the force, lifting him off the ground.

The sound of rumbling engines suddenly came from behind jarring his focus. Releasing his grip, he dropped the young Jedi and spun to face the hangar doors. Without warning a flurry of blaster fire poured into the sector originating from the incoming transport.

His troopers returned fire, breaking formation and darting around to the ship's sides.

All of a sudden it was chaos.

"JAINA, GET SABÈ AND PADMÈ TO THE SHUTTLE NOW! HURRY!" the master yelled over the whirring turbines, as he hurried for the descending ramp.

Vader did a double take. He swept his mask left and right searching the area. Then he saw them. Three women. One blonde, two brunette, bolting out from behind one of the yellow Starfighters and making a bee-line for the small transport.

"No ... it can't be," he thought out loud, staring as they moved to cross the hangar. His heart pounded violently inside his chest as his legs automatically carried him forward, following his line of sight. Squinting his eyes behind the tinted lenses of his mask, he strained to make out the third woman's features.

The two Jedi had already boarded the ship, now standing atop the lowered ramp as it hovered above the duracrete platform.

He launched into an awkward jog, trying desperately to see her face. If only he could take off the obstructive mask. His boots pounded the hangar floor as he struggled to get closer. They neared the ramp. Time was running out. He had to think quickly before he lost the opportunity. "COMMANDER! STOP THEM NOW!" he bellowed in complete panic.

"Yes sir," Appo replied, setting his blaster for stun.

The third woman, a brunette wearing a figure-hugging red tunic suddenly spun her head to stare at him as he continued to charge toward them. He felt something from her then. A pulse from the force. The voice inside his head cried out in madness. _PADMÈ!_

He hadn't killed her. She was alive, he could see her. She was running across the hangar right in front of him. His master had lied. Manipulated him until he was nothing more than a puppet he could toy with. A child's plaything.

The blonde and the other brunette suddenly jumped for the ramp, one by one being hoisted up by the two Jedi. But something had made his wife pause. She stopped running and just stared directly at him. Almost as if she could see right through his hideous appearance. His boots ground to a halt and he too stared. His ebony cloak drifting on the shuttle backdraft, his glossy helmet and body armour glistening in the beams of sunlight shining out from around the transport hull.

"PADMÈ, COME ON!" Jaina cried from within the shuttle.

Everything after that suddenly moved in slow motion. The swish of her braid as she turned and ran for the ramp. The graceful stride while she moved to escape. The deafening thud of the pulse in my ears. The strangled, distorted cry that tore from my mask. The rattle of white armour. The click of the blaster. The blinding green flash that hurtled toward her.

"Noooooo!" I roared, racing forward as they lunged at her outstretched hand. I was going to lose her. She was right there in front of me, and I couldn't quite reach her.

The stun bolt hit her right between the shoulder-blades. Her head fell back and instantly she collapsed to the ground. I couldn't focus, blinded by the possibility of having her back.

"NO! PADMÈ! NO!" the other brunette screamed from within the transport as the ramp started to close.

Closing in on her, I skidded to a stop and dropped to my knees, gently lifting her angelic head up from the floor. Blaster fire rained down around me as my men continued to fire at the departing ship. Its thrusters ignited as it took to the sky, blasting a gale force wind of hot exhaust toward me. The intense gust yanked and tugged on my cape, pulled at her hair and made her red velvet tunic flap against her cream blaster-scorched trousers.

I could hear the familiar rattle and thud of my men surrounding me. They gathered quietly in the hangar all watching as I carefully lifted her up into my arms. She was a dead weight, her limbs completely loose and lifeless. I pulled her tight into my chest, cradling her head into the crook of my arm. I had her. I was holding her. My beautiful Angel was alive and right where she belonged.

"My lord, did you want us to take her back to the ship?" Commander Appo asked from behind.

Before I could stop myself, I snarled. "NO!" Striding toward the hangar blast door I stepped over the lifeless vessel that was once the Queen and strode into the corridor.

"What would you have us do Sir?" Appo asked once more from my back.

Fighting the sudden onset of tears threatening to escape my eyes, I gritted my teeth and continued onwards. "Commander, prepare your men and ready my ship. We're leaving."

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

 _Wow, that was a difficult chapter to write. I hope you all enjoyed it._

 _He finally has her._

 _Welcome_ _ **Selenese**_ _it's good to see you. Thanks so much for your review._

 _Please guys if you have any ideas please feel free to PM me, one can never have too much inspiration._

 _As always..._

 _ **MTFBWY**_


	12. Chapter 10: Occursum Domini

**Chapter 10: Occursum Domini**

 _TANTIVE III: EN-ROUTE TO ALDERAAN_

Ribbons of iridescent blue and white light streamed passed the Tantive III as it hurtled through hyperspace. Ferus and Caleb both sat at the large conference console, trying to process what had just taken place. Not only had they failed to save the Queen, but they'd also lost Padmè to the Sith in the process. It had all gone so horribly wrong, and neither one of them wanted to talk about it.

"Well, Sabè is asleep," Jaina announced, rubbing her arm and taking a seat. "The ship's medics had to sedate her."

Ferus looked up from his entwined hands to the young blonde. "Why's that?" he asked.

Dragging her hand up into her hair, she started pulling out her braid. "She was hysterical. Between the constant tears she just kept repeating, 'It's him, he's got her'. There was nothing else they could do."

Caleb scrunched up his face. "It's him? What the kriff does she mean by that?" he asked.

"There has to be some sort of history between the two of them, Caleb. He was, after all, at _her_ mausoleum," Jaina replied.

Ferus's ears pricked at the young woman's deduction. A brief flashback of their confrontation and failed rescue attempt flashed before his eyes. He stared up at his two padawans, like he'd been shot in the back. "You're absolutely right, Jaina," he stated. Turning his gaze to Caleb, he cocked his brow and leant forward. "Did you happen to notice the way he reacted when she ran out? It was like we didn't even exist."

Caleb shrugged his shoulders and stood up, glancing back at them. "No, I didn't," he dismissed, "I was slightly preoccupied with trying _not_ to get myself killed."

"Master?" Jaina asked, her crystal blue eyes brimming with questions.

The older Jedi turned to her, "Yes?"

"Obi-wan seemed to know her rather well, he even recognized her voice on the transmission. Do you think maybe _he_ might be able to help us?"

With a sigh, Ferus moved to push himself up from his chair. "I'm not sure my young padawan," he replied, reaching his arms up into a stretch and yawning. "Perhaps we can ask him when we meet up." He glanced between the two exhausted padawans. "But for now, the best thing we can do is rest. Once we get to Alderaan we have a long journey ahead of us."

"Where are we going master?" Jaina asked.

The older Jedi trudged to the door and lent on the frame. He glanced over his shoulder. "We are going to Tatooine."

* * *

 _IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: EN-ROUTE TO CORUSCANT_

 _Where have you been hiding? What happened to our baby?_

So many questions swim in my head.

Shifting my boots, I stare at her sleeping, watching the Japoor snippet I gave her gently rise and fall with each breath. I wanted her in my chamber, lying in my unused bed and safe with me, where I could make sure she never disappeared again.

But something convinced me to keep her here, hidden in the guest quarters right next to my own. I have of course, altered the codes to the security locks and stationed two troopers at her door; both to keep her in and more importantly to keep everyone else _out_. Only I know those codes. Only I can enter or leave.

I am not taking any chances. Not now that I have her. I just wish that I could remove my mask. To be able to see the ruby red flush in her cheeks, the true depth of her hazel eyes when she opens them, but I can't. Still, I guess it's a blessing in disguise. At least this way she won't see my face; won't see the horrific scars on my skin or the piercing amber hue of my eyes. If they are even that colour right now – somehow I doubt it going by the excruciating pain I am experiencing.

 _Will you even want me when you see what I've become. After witnessing first hand what I am truly capable of?_

My heart grows heavy. She probably won't. Not that it matters, I'm not letting her go. Not now ... not ever. She's _my_ wife, I did this for her. I sacrificed myself and became this _thing_ for _her_.

Did her eyelids just twitch?

A solid lump forms in my throat. They just twitched again, I wasn't imagining it. This is really happening, she's finally slept off the stun ray's effects. Taking a deep calming breath, I fold my arms over my chest and watch as she slowly comes to.

Her eyes gently flutter then suddenly burst open. She yanks the covers up and scrambles against the upholstered bedhead, sitting bolt upright and staring straight at me. I can feel her fear pulsing through the force. Normally the beast inside me would relish in it, gorging on the sensation. But not this time. I don't want her fear. The pure thought of it sickens me. I want to run over and cradle her trembling body in my arms, begging for her forgiveness, but I know I will only frighten her more.

Opening my mouth to speak, I find myself lost for words and my ears tune in to the respirator relentlessly hissing in-and-out. My heart feels like it's about to explode, pounding away furiously. I can't do this. I don't know what to say. Seeing her terrified eyes staring up at me and her hands shakily clutching the blanket to her breast, I am overwhelmed by guilt.

Without warning it abruptly turns into anger, rising dangerously close to the surface. I drop my hands and clench them tight trying to contain it. They shake by my hips. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from her before I lose control. Spinning on the heel of my boot, I make for the door.

"Wait."

The sound of her wavering whisper pulls me to a stop and I freeze. My heart is thumping and the respirator falters, rasping and clicking oddly under the strain. I blindly stare at the door, so close yet so far away, unable to move.

"Where am I?"

I swallow. My throat is dry and coarse. Closing my eyes I stutter in a shallow breath. "On-board the Exactor," I reply.

"Oh," she sighs. "Where ... where are you taking me?"

I shouldn't have answered, because now I know the questions won't stop. It's just who she is, who she always was, curious about every minute detail. "We are heading for Coruscant."

"Oh," she responds, and I can hear the disappointment in her tone.

I go to take another step.

"Wait. Who are you? Why didn't you kill me?"

I pause again, grinding my teeth. I knew she wouldn't recognize me like I am. Why should she? But then again some stupid part of me buried deep beneath the surface had silently hoped she would. I whirl to face her and fold my arms. Allowing the respirator to cycle I stare into her eyes once again, battling the urge to disclose everything.

"We both have questions, but now is not the time. My officers will bring you your meals and ensure you are taken care of. We can discuss all other matters once we reach the Capitol. Until then you will remain in here."

My tone came out harsher than I desired, but the effect was sufficient. She raised her brow at me and for the briefest of seconds I caught that familiar flash of defiance sparkle within her wide eyes. Folding her arms, she held my gaze and huffed. That's my girl. Feisty and determined. That undying strength that made me fall so hard for her.

"So I'm your prisoner then?" she snaps back, slightly more aggressive than before.

I turn to face the door and pause, dipping my head. Glancing back, I growl in return: "If that is how you wish to perceive it."

"How I _wish_ to _perceive_ it?" she replies.

"Yes."

That's it, I'm done. Striding for the door I wave my gloved hand over it and it slides open. Commander Appo is standing in the corridor with a tray of Naboo delicacies arranged on a platter. "Commander, keep an eye on her. If she makes any attempt to escape, stun her. I will be in my chamber if you need to reach me."

"As you wish Lord Vader," Appo acknowledges, carrying the tray into her room.

Closing the door behind me, I stride out from between the two troopers and charge down the corridor for my chamber.

* * *

The door whooshed shut. Padmè watched the Clone trooper carry a tray of food over to her bedside table and place it down. She glanced at the tray and then to him as he stepped back. He was the same one she'd seen in the market the other morning, with the distinctive blue arrow marking on his white helmet. He folded his arms then rested against the wall.

"You're from the 501st aren't you?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes my lady."

Leaning forward she picked up a Shuura fruit from the plate and turned it around in her hands. "What's your name?"

"Commander Appo," he replied.

"Were you at the Jedi Temple burning?" she asked, taking a bite from the exotic fruit.

"Yes."

Padmè nervously glanced between the half eaten fruit and then to the trooper. She had to ask. Someone had to know what happened to her husband. "What happened to your General?"

His helmet spun to face her. Shifting his footing, the Commander seemed reluctant to answer the question. After a silent moment he turned to stare at the wall. "General Skywalker never made it out."

But he did. She knew he did. He came to see her that very same night, right before leaving for Mustafar. "How do you know that?" she asked.

He spun around and crossed his arms with a huff. "Enough. Save your questions for Lord Vader. Perhaps if you cooperate, you might live long enough for him to answer some of them."

"Live long enough?"

He nodded. "Yes. Prisoners don't tend to last very long around here. You want my advice? Give him whatever he wants and _hope_ that he is in a forgiving mood. After all, he does seem to be unusually _fond_ of _you_."

Padmè rolled her eyes and dumped the half-eaten fruit back on the plate. "I think I just lost my appetite," she groaned.

• • •

The Exactor lurched out of hyperspace and moved into orbit over Coruscant. The ever increasing fleet of newly commissioned Imperial I-class star destroyers loomed ominously around the busy city planet, while squadrons of TIE-fighters practiced routine drills between them.

A white Lambda-class shuttle flanked by two TIEs emerged from the Exactor's belly and hurtled toward the planet's hazy atmosphere. They crossed the chaotic sky lanes and slowed their approach as they neared the Imperial Palace hangar. The TIE-fighters hung back waiting for the shuttle to raise its tripodal wing-foils into landing position, following it inside once it finally touched down.

Bursts of pressurised steam sprayed into the air from the hydraulic pistons supporting the descending ramp. Commander Appo led his three officers from the shuttle and onto the platform. Padmè hesitantly exited shortly after with the Dark Lord following closely behind her. He ushered the former senator toward his awaiting troopers and proceeded to escort them all through the heavily reinforced blast doors and into the palace.

He stopped at a set of giant wooden doors, guarded by two red-robed royal guards. They stood rigid with their force pikes firmly planted on the marble floor. Vader turned to his troops. "Commander, have your men wait here. I will take the prisoner inside _alone_."

"As you wish my lord," Appo acknowledged.

Turning to Padmè, he tilted his mask down to look into her eyes and gently grasped her upper arm. "Come. He is expecting us," he rumbled, doing his best to keep his tone calm.

She nodded staring up into the tinted lenses of his mask, suddenly feeling oddly safe in his company. There was something about him that was so familiar – not his appearance, she'd never seen him before the massacre in Theed – but a feeling, deep within the pit of her stomach that insisted she stay close to him. Allowing him to walk her forward, she followed him into the sweeping throne room.

Dark grey stone pillars lined either side of them, towering over the walkway until their tops mingled with the cavernous ceiling overhead. The heavy thud of his armoured boots and unsteady rasp of his breathing echoed in the silence, drowning out the gentle pat of her footsteps.

He kept his stride short, like he was trying to make it easier for her to keep up, although she doubted that was actually the case. But if it was, that would only add to her sudden confusion. So far he'd been nothing but civil toward her, definitely not what she'd expected from a Sith. Even in captivity she'd been placed in a luxurious suite far from what anyone could describe as a prison cell.

He stopped, gently pulling her to a halt beside him. A sudden icy chill swept through her, radiating from all directions, chilling every bone in her body. Lifting her head she stared up at the steep staircase before them. At the top was a dark shadowy figure that slowly rose from his seat and slithered toward the head of the stairs.

"Ah, Lord Vader, you've returned ... and with company I see. How _interesting_."

His voice was smooth and sinister, purring with malice. She didn't need to see his face beneath the hood to know his identity. _That_ voice she remembered all too well. Despite the ice worming its way through her veins, a sudden burst of fire ignited inside her. Before she could speak, a rumbling growl came from the armoured Dark Lord standing beside her.

"You _lied_ to me," Vader hissed.

She was so caught up in watching the Emperor approach them that she failed to see the sudden shift in his body language. His gloved hand was twitching at his belt, dancing over the metallic hilt of his lightsaber. His feet were splayed, as if braced for battle. Even his breathing had sped up, the strange rasping and clicking coming in sudden short bursts.

"No, my friend. It would appear we were both lied to. You saw the reports _yourself,_ " the Emperor purred. He made his way down the stairs, his black robe dragging over each one as he descended. His hands hung limply at his waist, the long wiry fingers dangling like claws. Reaching the floor he turned his yellow eyes to Padmè, standing deathly silent beside his angered apprentice. "It's such a pleasure to see you alive, my dear. Your supposed death was indeed a terrible tragedy."

The former senator folded her arms and scowled. "What you did to Anakin, the Jedi and the Republic is the real tragedy. You've already taken everything from me, what more could you possibly want?"

Vader grasped the hilt of his saber in his glove and edged closer, preparing to protect her. He looked down into her shimmering eyes, seeing the tears starting to build. "Padmè, don't," he muttered.

She didn't hear him, her anguish from the last nine months had successfully built to boiling point and now faced with the one person who had single-handedly ruined her life, she was losing it. "Where is he? What have you done with Anakin?" she cried.

The Emperor stopped. He looked to Vader and back to her, steepling his hands together. "Ah ... I see. He hasn't told you yet has he?" he sneered, a twisted grin morphing onto his withered face. A vicious cackle left his lips as he slowly turned back to the stairs.

"Told me what?" she snapped glancing angrily between the two men. "What are you talking about?"

Vader turned to her, gently gripping both arms in his hands while his master continued to laugh, standing at the foot of the stairs behind him. Her questioning eyes stared up into his mask and he was certain they'd found his hidden behind the crimson lenses. "Padmè," he rumbled weakly, his vocoder crackling, " _Angel_ it's ... it's me."

Her face dropped. She tried to pull away and free herself from his grasp, but he held on. "No ... I don't believe you," she cried, struggling in his grip. "Please, tell me it isn't true."

Dropping to one knee, his cape cascading onto the marble around him, Vader took her by the hands and gazed up into her tear-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, Padmè. I truly am."

Tears streamed down her face. She stared at the masked Lord kneeling before her in horror. "But how? Why are you dressed like that? All those people you murdered! Anakin ... tell me why?"

"Padmè, _please_." He released her hands feeling her rising panic. "Let me explain."

She shook her head violently, cautiously backing away. "I ... I don't know you anymore. I don't _want_ to know you anymore," she wailed, brushing the moisture from her cheeks.

Vader slowly pushed his hulking body up from the floor sensing her desire to run. His master had stopped laughing now and he could feel his eyes boring into his back. He watched as she suddenly turned and bolted for the doors, her chestnut braid swinging in the air behind her. "No. Padmè wait!" he bellowed, moving to follow her. His boots thudding heavily on the marble as he ran to chase her down. She neared the doors, but he was gaining on her. He couldn't lose her like this, not again.

A blinding blue flash lit up the room and he suddenly crashed to the floor writhing in pain. The lightening sparked and sizzled over his suit, searing his flesh and shorting out his cybernetics. "PADMÈ!" he roared from the ground trying to get up.

She briefly glanced back to see him raising his hand off the floor toward her. She grabbed her neck instinctively, remembering how he'd choked her before and fled into the corridor.

The Emperor strode forward and called out to his men by the doors, watching his apprentice convulsing. "Guards, seize her and take her to Lord Vader's chamber. He will join her there when I'm finished with him," he hissed.

"Yes sir."

He slammed the doors shut with the force and stared down at his crippled apprentice by his feet. "You are pathetic," he hissed, standing over his armoured body and blasting him again with the lightening. The current engulfed the Dark Lord and he screamed in agony, twisting and thrashing from the scorching energy coursing through him. "She rejects you and you throw yourself at her feet, begging for forgiveness. You _disgust_ me."

Vader didn't respond, he couldn't respond. The lightening had rendered him powerless, lying on the ground rasping for air. His leg shook violently as he tried to pull his knee up towards his chest.

"Get up, before I put you out of your misery," Sidious snarled, crossing his arms and scowling. He watched Vader struggle, trying in vain to push himself up. "You can't even get up can you? Your weakness sickens me. Perhaps I should've let you rot where _Kenobi_ left you."

Arms and legs shaking, Vader slowly forced himself to his feet. His skin was on fire, singed from the lightening and his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. Finally reaching his full height, he swayed in place staring at his master before him. "Yes ... master," he stammered.

Yellow eyes glowing, Sidious turned and made his way to the stairs. Stopping at the base, he whirled back to face his apprentice waving his withered finger at him. "You may keep your wife, but it comes with conditions."

"What ... _conditions_?"

"If I so much as suspect her presence weakening you, as it did just then, I will finish what you started nine months ago."

Vader dipped his head in submission fighting hard to stay conscious. "Yes, my master."

The Emperor continued. "There are others, but those I will tell you in time. For now, go to her, sort this all out and remember ..."

Lifting his mask, the Dark Lord waited for his master to finish.

"A Sith _takes_ what belongs to them, Lord Vader."

"I understand, my master," Vader rumbled with a bow, still struggling to shake off the tremors. He turned and left the throne room, drawing on the dark side to stay upright.

His vision was blurring, drifting in and out of darkness with each step. He passed the royal guards and staggered to the nearest wall, moving to lean on it.

"Here my lord," Commander Appo stated, moving his shoulder armour beneath his arm and taking his weight. Another trooper moved in around his other side and they started to guide his failing body down the corridor.

"The medic, I ... I need the med..."

His words trailed off, and his legs suddenly gave out. The two troopers hoisted him up onto their shoulders and carried him to the med-bay. This wasn't the first time they'd needed to assist him to the theatre, but it was definitely the first time he'd actually passed out along the way.

They reached the theatre and two doctors were already poised and waiting with an assortment of med-droids standing by. The first doctor, a brunette wearing glasses saw them enter and ran over to assist. "We were expecting him. Quick get him onto the table, it sounds like his respirator has failed," she ordered moving to get her equipment.

The two troopers carried him to the bed and with the droids' assistance lifted his hulking body up onto it.

Grabbing the breathing mask the doctor prepped the machine and waited for the droids to remove his head gear. "Aleria, strip him down. The emperor has ordered another physical."

The young redhead doctor nodded and started to undo his suit. She painstakingly removed the pieces, laying them one by one over a nearby chair. When he was completely undressed, she pulled a white sheet up over his waist and watched her partner finish attaching the breathing mask. "Are we restraining him Celeste? They didn't really do much the last time," she asked.

"Yes, I know they won't stop him, but they will slow him down. I'm afraid these tests are particularly invasive, he's not going to be happy when he realizes what's going on."

The breathing mask stuttered before finding it's rhythm. Doctor Celeste hooked up the vital monitors and watched his scarred chest slowly rise and fall. "Well, he's breathing, that's a good start. Let's give him a minute before we begin so he can adjust," she said walking over to the bench and preparing the tests.

* * *

Padmè stood between the heavy black curtains, twirling the Japoor snippet within her fingers and staring out at the busy skyline. She couldn't shake the image of him trembling on the floor covered in blue lightening. The crackle and hiss it made as it tore through his body. The way he screamed in agony desperately trying to reach out for her.

It didn't matter how scared she was, or what atrocities she'd seen him commit, she still loved him. And when he cried out to her, helpless and in pain ... she ran. She stammered in a shaky breath and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

Nine long months she'd spent wondering, hoping that he was still alive. Praying that somewhere in the galaxy, hidden amongst the distant stars and planets, her Ani had survived and was waiting for her. But could she accept him as he was now? If that was even him behind the mask. The familiar feeling in his presence was undeniable, but without actually _seeing_ him how could she be sure?

Hearing the door slide open, she spun around expecting to see him standing in the entrance.

"Ah ... Padmè my dear," the Emperor purred walking inside and closing the door behind him. "We need to have a little talk."

She folded her arms and turned back to the window. "I've nothing to say to you," she snapped.

He snickered, slithering across the living room towards her. "Oh but you do. I can feel your anger rolling off you. Ask your questions. Say what you want to say."

She whirled to face him, her face tight with anger. "What did you _do_ to him?"

He stepped closer, his yellow eyes staring into hers. Placing his wrinkled hand upon her shoulder, he sighed. "Your anger toward me is understandable, however _misplaced_. Come, there's something you need to see."

What choice did she have? She was trapped. Shoving his hand off her shoulder, she stepped back and gestured to the doorway. "After you, _Emperor,_ " she retorted.


	13. Chapter 11: Cruciati Animarum

**Chapter 11: Cruciati Animarum**

ALDERAAN: HOUSE ORGANA

A circle of red and green lights blinked in the night, highlighting the private landing platform at the base of the palace. A small rectangular transport slowly lowered to the deck, its landing props silently dropping to the duracrete.

Waiting in a neighbouring bunker was a small company of local guards dressed in khaki uniforms and white domed helmets. As the docking ramp lowered, they rushed out onto the platform keeping their weapons trained on the ship's door.

Four robed figures emerged from the transport, cautiously making their way down the ramp. They stopped before the guards, keeping their hoods locked over their heads.

"Stop right where you are. This is a restricted area. Who are you and what is your purpose here?" one of the guards ordered cocking his blaster.

One of the figures stepped forward, holding his hands out. "We are here to see Viceroy Organa. He is expecting us," he replied.

The guards closed ranks, blocking their path. "The Viceroy is not expecting visitors. Get back in your ship and leave at once or we will be forced to open fire," he barked.

"Lower your weapons, Lieutenant. They are perfectly safe," a husky voice called out from the bunker.

A tall dark haired man wearing a floor length blue tunic and grey cloak stepped out from within the shadows. He walked between the guards and stopped before the four hooded figures, holding his hand out to greet them. "I am Senator Bail Organa, welcome to Alderaan," he said.

Ferus moved forward and shook his hand, staring into his soulful brown eyes. "Good evening Senator," he replied. "I am Ferus Olin, this is Sabè and these are my two padawans; Caleb and Jaina," he said gesturing at his companions. "My apologies for the lateness of the hour."

The Viceroy smiled. "There's no need, Master Olin. Why don't the four of you come inside and I'll fix you all something warm to drink."

Ferus nodded. They were all bitterly exhausted from the journey and the thought of a nice hot herbal tea sounded delightful. "Thank you Senator."

The handmaiden and the three Jedi followed the Senator from the platform and into the palace.

• • •

Everything about the palace screamed opulence. It was filled with grand corridors all lined with decorative vases and gold busts. Hung on the softly lit walls were beautiful pictures adorned with equally attractive frames; some of mountains, others of a lake and the odd few of the palace itself.

They followed the Senator into a large Corinthian sitting room. There was a cream circular couch, big enough to seat a small army, positioned in front of a wall sized window that overlooked the neighbouring lake. To the side was a bar-come-kitchenette, complete with different alcohols from all reaches of the galaxy.

The Viceroy stopped on the plush rug in the center and turned to face them. "Please, take a seat and make yourselves comfortable and I'll fix the drinks," he said gesturing toward the lounge.

"Thank you, Senator," Ferus replied with a nod, watching as he headed over to the prep area.

The four of them each took a seat and sat quietly for a moment, using the downtime to peruse the room. Jaina stared at one of the bureaus against the wall. It was covered in what appeared to be an assortment of family photos and memorabilia. She got up from her seat and walked over to it, looking at each of them intently.

"Jaina," Caleb scolded.

She shot him a glare and shrugged her shoulders. "What? I'm only looking," she replied, turning her attention back to the pictures.

"It's quite alright, be my guest," Bail said, carrying the tray with their drinks into the lounge room. He placed it down on the coffee table, took one of the cups and sat down beside Ferus.

The older Jedi leant forward, helping himself to one of the cups and sat back taking a sip.

"So Master Olin, Obi-wan informed me that you were forming a small rebellion against the Empire. Tell me how is that all going?" Bail asked, crossing his legs.

Ferus went quiet for a moment, remembering the way his biggest supporter was ruthlessly struck down by the Dark Lord in the hangar. He sighed, taking another sip from his cup before meeting the Senator's gaze. "Not too well, I'm afraid. Queen Apailana was our biggest benefactor. She was secretly funding our efforts, without her I'm unfortunately out of resources," he replied sadly.

"Has she suddenly decided to stop financing you?" he asked.

Caleb scowled, grabbing a tea and staring at the Viceroy. "No, that force-forsaken cyborg of a Sith murdered her," he growled before taking a gulp from his drink.

"A Sith?" Bail asked, glancing between the two Jedi curiously.

"Yes Senator," Ferus replied placing his cup down on the table and dragging his hand up through his shaggy brown hair. "I'm not sure if you've heard of him. He goes by the name Darth Vader; he's the Emperor's personal enforcer."

"Can't say that I have."

One of the pictures suddenly caught Jaina's eye. She could hear them talking behind her, but she wasn't particularly paying attention to what they were saying. She picked up the photo, staring at it curiously. It was one of the Viceroy in the foyer of the Senatorial building with Padmè standing next to him. Neither of them appeared much younger than they were presently, although she did look considerably larger than she was at Naboo.

"I love that picture."

Jaina fumbled with the frame, trying not to drop it and quickly turned around. Standing behind her was a beautiful woman, with long flowing brown hair that cascaded down over her shoulders. Her royal blue and silver gown shimmered in the lights and accented the warm hazel hue of her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry. It's just ... this picture is so beautiful," the young padawan said.

"It's fine my dear. Anyway, I'm Breha, Bail is my husband, welcome to our home," she sang.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Breha, I'm Jaina," she replied with a shy smile.

"Padmè was one of our dearest friends. It's so hard to believe she's actually gone," Breha said, staring at it.

Jaina glanced up at the woman curiously. "Is she pregnant in this photo?"

A subtle smile graced her features as she gently traced her finger over the picture. "Yes, I believe so. She died not long after it was taken. Did you know her?"

Before she could answer, a sudden shrill cry echoed from outside of the room, stealing Breha's attention. "I'm sorry dear, please excuse me for a moment," she apologised, patting her on the shoulder and turning away.

All eyes locked onto the woman hastily leaving. Bail smiled taking another sip from his tea. He looked to Sabè and the Jedi around him. "Sorry, it sounds like my daughter has just woken up. She suffers from terrible night-terrors, it's a wonder she gets any sleep at all."

They all continued talking while Jaina returned her attention to the picture. There was a hand around Padmè's waist, the black gloved fingers just barely visible over the side of her belly. She traced the side of the image, running her finger down the inner edge of the frame. It looked folded, as if part of the picture had been concealed within the back of the frame. Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to put it down. She cautiously glanced over her shoulder to see everyone was still busy in their conversations and carefully slid the picture inside her robe, tucking it into her tunic.

Moments later the lady of the house returned, cradling a very unsettled baby in her arms, wrapped in a white muslin cloth. She was still crying, tears streaming down her tiny plump cheeks. "Sssh Leia, it's alright, you're safe now," the mother cooed, rocking her gently.

Jaina walked over to her, admiring the young child in her arms. She had beautiful thick brown hair, and deep soulful hazel eyes. "She's adorable," the young padawan said, gazing at her.

Breha sighed, exhaustion lines marring her face. "Yes, but she's not sleeping. We just can't seem to get her to settle lately. Bail and I have tried everything and we are both dreadfully exhausted."

The child wailed again, scrunching her tiny cherub face up and wriggling about. Jaina looked up at the mother questioningly. "Would you mind if I tried?" she asked.

Breha glanced over at her husband on the sofa and he nodded before returning to his conversation. "By all means dear. I could use the rest," she replied, laying the child into Jaina's outstretched arms.

Crystal blue locked with deep hazel, and the baby and padawan stared at each other. The silence only lasted a moment before Leia started crying once more. Jaina could feel her anxiety pulsing through the force. The light was billowing from her, as bright as any sun. Closing her eyes, she gently rocked her, using the force to soothe her fears. An angelic hum whispered from her lips, her hips gently swaying in time to the rhythm. Instantly the baby's face smoothed out, relaxing from the hypnotic melody and she softly cooed in her arms.

"Wow, you certainly have a way with children," Breha exclaimed, watching in awe as Leia finally settled. "What did you do?"

Jaina continued to sway, keeping her gaze glued to the lulling baby. "She is gifted, my lady," she whispered reflectively, gently brushing a stray lock away from her tiny face. "The force is strong with her, I simply spoke to her through it, letting her know everything will be alright."

Breha's eyes glistened with tears and she turned to her husband who was also staring at the young woman who had managed to calm their daughter. He sighed turning his gaze to the floor. "Bail?" she gasped beneath her breath, as she approached him.

He stood up and took her into his arms, running his hand soothingly along her back. "Its alright, don't worry. We'll figure it out," he comforted.

She pulled back staring agonizingly into his eyes. "I don't have what she needs Bail. Neither of us do," she cried, dropping her head back onto his shoulder and sobbing.

"Our love for her will hold us together dear, we'll get through this, we're all she has."

Jaina walked up behind the couple and tapped the crying woman on the shoulder. She slowly turned to face her, wiping the tears from her eyes. "She's sleeping now, my lady," she said, carefully handing her back to her.

"Thank you dear. I wish I had your gift, you are truly blessed," Breha sniffled, taking the sleeping child back into her arms. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to try putting her down now, hopefully she sleeps through the night. Thank you again."

"Thank you for allowing me to hold her, she is a sparkle of hope in such oppressing times."

Breha smiled, glancing between her daughter and the young Jedi. "That she is my dear. She most certainly is."

Bail watched his wife leave the room with Leia and tried to stifle a yawn. He turned to his companions and sighed. "Well, the hour is late. Why don't I show you all to your rooms so you can get some much needed rest. In the morning I will have Captain Antilles ready the ship for your journey to Tatooine."

The group all rose from their seats. Ferus glanced between his fellow travellers and then back to the Viceroy standing before him. "Thank you Senator Organa, your kindness truly is a balm to all who encounter it."

• • •

Jaina straightened her nightgown and sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the picture she'd swiped from the living room.

"What have you got there?"

She turned to glance at Sabè who was meticulously brushing her hair by the mirror behind her. For a moment she'd forgotten they were sharing a room and was now scolding herself for being so short-sighted. "Just one of the pictures," she dismissed, turning it over to assess the clasps.

"You took one of them?" she asked again.

"Just this one," she replied, slowly lifting the tiny claws up with her fingernail. "Part of it seems to be hidden inside the frame." The last of the clasps lifted and the back gently popped away. Being extra-careful not to damage it, she gripped the back stand in her fingers and pulled it away from the glass. The mattress lurched and bucked as Sabè suddenly sat down beside her.

"Alright, now I'm curious. What is this picture of anyway?" Sabè inquired leaning closer.

"Of your mistress and the Viceroy at the Senate building." She turned the frame over and slowly pried the photo out from it's housing, holding it gingerly in her hands and laying the glass down. "Let's see who they didnt want us to see," she muttered slowly unfolding the glossy paper.

Both women gasped as the image was unfolded. Standing next to Bail and Padmè, with his hand wrapped protectively around her stomach was Anakin. Standing next to him, with his hand tight upon his shoulder, was none other than Chancellor – now _Emperor_ \- Palpatine himself. Anakin was smiling but she could tell it wasn't a true smile, she had seen him often enough in the temple to know that much.

"Are you putting the pieces together yet?" Sabè snapped darkly.

Jaina twisted around to stare questioningly at the handmaiden beside her. "What do you mean? What are you implying?"

"It's _him_. He's the Sith. It's what I was trying to tell you back on the ship before those interfering medics so kindly knocked me out. You're so-called 'chosen one' _is_ Darth Vader," she hissed.

Jaina shook her head in denial. "No, I won't believe that. Anakin was the strongest and most gifted Jedi in the order. All of us younger padawan's idolized him. Don't defile his memory with such unfounded heinous accusations."

Sabè shrugged her shoulders and got up, moving to crawl into her own bed. She stared into the naive blue eyes of the young Jedi. "Why else do you think he was in her mausoleum? I spoke to him. He called me Padmè. He thought I was her, but when he woke up from his daze and realised his mistake he was enraged, chasing after me like a raging rancor." She huffed dropping her head down on the pillow and pulling the blankets up. "Think what you want about him. You will see for yourself eventually. He has her now, and all that matters to me is that we get her out of there as soon as we can. Force knows what he will do to her."

Jaina went deathly silent staring at the picture in her hands, her fingers trembling around the edges. There was a definite darkness in his eyes and on his face. And she couldn't refute the closeness between him and the Chancellor; the way his hand was so possessively draped over his shoulder. The wicked smile that was plastered across his face. As much as it pained her to admit, Sabè was right and she had the evidence right in her hands. She sighed placing the photo down on the table beside her and crawled into bed. "I wonder what made him snap. He was the best of all of us, something had to have made him do this."

"It's no mystery, Jaina. Look who's standing next to him," Sabè groaned with a huff.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE PRIVATE MEDICAL FACILITY_

Padmè followed the Emperor into a small chamber. It was sterile and empty, the bright lights rebounding off the grey durasteel blast walls. He stopped by a glass partition, recessed into the wall before him and silently turned to face her.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Padmè snipped, glaring at him and folding her arms. "There's nothing in here."

He turned back to face the glass partition ignoring her outburst. "Come my dear, stand _beside_ me," he replied keeping his robed back to her.

Padmè crossed the floor and stopped alongside him with a huff, following his stare at the glass. He lifted his withered hand and with the slightest of movements, turned off the lights plunging them both into complete darkness.

Instantly, as if someone had opened a window, the theatre appeared in the glass before them. Two women, dressed in white lab-coats were hovering over a medical bed in the centre of the room. Perched around them were several battered med-droids each holding different pieces of equipment, some with tools on metal trays. Positioned alongside the bed were numerous machines with computer monitors all connected to the lifeless body within.

She stepped closer, unable to look away. Squinting her eyes, she focused on the patient before her. He had no hair, and charred skin that ran right down to his chest. His waist was covered by a white sheet that draped down either side and hung just above the tiled floor. Two reflective cybernetic legs were suspended in restraining stirrups, slightly bent in the air. His arms, one prosthetic and the other flesh, were cuffed to supports protruding from either side of the bed.

"Who is that? Why are you showing me this?" she asked, suddenly feeling cold.

He turned his smouldering eyes toward her, his grey wrinkled face oddly subdued. He shifted his footing and placed his claw-like fingers upon her shoulder. "You asked what I did to him," he replied staring soullessly into her eyes, "so I am showing you."

She felt the tears building and covered her mouth to stifle her cry, turning her gaze back to the theatre. "Please ... tell me that isn't Anakin," she choked, fighting the sudden ache rising in her chest.

He wordlessly turned back to the glass and took his hand from her shoulder, turning on the speakers so they could hear inside. Beeps, alarms and the steady rasp of artificial breathing echoed all around them, mingling with the running conversation between the two doctors.

"Palpatine, answer me."

He didnt respond, instead leaning forward to press the intercom. "How is he?" he purred over the microphone, the tiniest hint of compassion hidden in his tone.

The dark haired doctor in glasses looked up from the monitor straight at them, as her counterpart moved to the foot of the bed between the stirrups. "He is stable and in stasis. WBC count is still high and his BP is one-sixty over ninety-five and climbing. Aleria is preparing the sample harvest now, so we should know the other test results shortly, providing his condition doesn't worsen."

Padmè threw her hands against the glass, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Anakin!" she cried, "Anakin, can you hear me?" Feeling the pressure of the Emperor's hand back upon her shoulder, she spun around to face him, her sodden face tight with despair. She swatted his hands away and screamed: "What did you do to him?"

"Padmè, my dear. _I_ didn't do this to him ... _you_ did."

"What do you mean I did? He was fine when I last saw him, how dare you say such things!"

"He paid the ultimate price for your _betrayal_." He grabbed her shoulders tight and forcefully spun her around to stare through the window. "What you see now is all that remains of _Anakin Skywalker._ You see, when you brought your beloved Jedi friend, Obi-wan Kenobi to Mustafar, they fought each other and he left your husband dismembered and burning alive on the bank."

"I didn't bring him. I didn't even know he was on my ship," she cried, clawing at the glass. Fighting against his grip, she pulled and pushed herself free looking for an exit. "I want to see him. Let me in there so I can speak with him."

"Not yet. You will be with him soon enough."

Alarms blared, and the brunette doctor started frantically moving around the theatre securing the equipment. Aleria remained crouched between the stirrups staring at the heart monitor and watching for movement. "BP ONE-SEVENTY OVER NINETY-EIGHT," she yelled out over the alarms. "HE'S WAKING UP."

"Have you got that sample yet?" the brunette called out checking that the monitors were secured to the floor.

"He's almost there, but he's not happy about it." She caught movement out the corner of her eye, seeing his prosthetic feet starting to yank on the restraints.

"I told you he wouldn't be! Just get ready to grab that sample Aleria, we don't have much time."

The room started to vibrate, shaking the lights in the ceiling, causing them to flicker in and out. Vader's eyes flew open, the burning gold orbs flaming in anger. He wrenched on the cuffs securing his arms, snapping the one holding his prosthetic. Thrashing his head left and right, he threw it back hard into the pillow and bucked his torso, thrusting his hips off the bed.

"ALERIA! NOW!" the brunette yelled holding onto the side of the counter.

His hands clenched over the durasteel supports and he growled and groaned through his teeth.

The redheaded doctor grabbed her sample and crawled as fast as she could across the floor, desperately trying to escape the impending aftermath. "I've got it Celeste, I've got the sample!"

"Good, now get out. We can't risk losing it."

The dark lord's head snapped in the brunette's direction, his amber eyes glowing. Instantly she was dragged from her feet and launched at the glass, her face slamming into it with a thud.

Padmè jumped back in shock, watching as the woman's glasses pushed up the side of her face and her cheek dragged along the partition. She could hear Palpatine laughing behind her, suddenly delighted in his apprentice's overwhelming display of aggression. She whirled to face him. "He's going to kill them! Let me in there, please!" she demanded.

"He won't kill them, my dear. There's no need to be dramatic. He's simply warning them. But by all means," he snickered waving the door open and stepping back, a twisted grin worming across his face. "Go in there and see him. See if he _wants_ to talk."

Moving to leave she headed for the door, when he called out to her.

"Oh, Padmè ..."

She stopped and spun to face him.

"Just remember, this. In what was one of his darkest, most chaotic moments, he _still_ brought _you_ to ME."

She turned and ran from the room, bolting down the corridor. The theatre doors burst open and she froze, horrified by the sight. Vader was standing there, completely naked, holding the redhead doctor up against the wall by her throat. His breathing was raspy and strained and his scarred face was contorted with rage.

"The next time you require _that_ particular sample," he growled, his voice raspy and rough, "you will ask me for it. Do I make myself clear _,_ doctor?"

Her wide green eyes stared up at him in panic. "Y-yes ... my ... lord," she croaked.

He relaxed his grip and dropped her, watching as she collapsed at his cybernetic feet. Lifting his prosthetic hand he pointed to the door. "Now, get _out_."

Still clutching the sample in her hand, she scrambled across the floor and pushed passed Padmè frozen in the doorway, darting out into the passage.

"Anakin?"

He took one look at her, glanced down at himself and then without saying a word turned away, thumping over to the chair holding his suit.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked.

He picked up his black skin-pants and stepped into them, tugging them up over his legs. "No," he growled, continuing to get dressed.

"Hey, what are you doing in here?" the dark haired doctor demanded from behind the bed, pushing her glasses back up onto her nose. "Get out, this is a restricted area."

Vader briefly glanced over at the her and snarled, "If you wish to continue breathing Celeste, I recommend that you leave."

"But ... my lord?" she asked, stopping in place.

"Now."

She glared at Padmè and then made for the door, grabbing her clipboard and test samples from the counter along the way.

He continued pulling on his suit, attaching his utility belt and replacing his boots. "What are you doing in here?" he growled keeping his eyes focused on the task at hand.

"Palpatine let me in," she answered, cautiously stepping further into the room. "What were they doing to you?"

"Tests, nothing out of the ordinary," he dismissed, rising to his full height and replacing his cloak, still refusing to look at her.

"Won't you at least look at me?" Padmè asked, her voice breaking.

He paused, holding his head gear in his hands and staring at them. He closed his eyes and coughed, his lungs struggling without the support. "Why?" he rasped, suddenly feeling short of breath. "So you can admire Kenobi's handiwork?"

"No, so I can see _you_ ," she whispered, slowly edging closer. "Please, let me see your eyes. It's been so long Ani, just let me see them."

His posture stiffened, the helmet and mask shaking in his hands. Her presence had stifled his connection with the force, soothing the dragon inside him. He slowly turned to face her, his hairless brow furrowing into a deep v across his forehead. Two hazy blue eyes lined with thick blonde lashes stared down at her.

She gasped, taking another quick step forward. It was definitely him, there was now no doubt in her mind. Before she could reach him he quickly averted his gaze and stared back at his mask in his hands.

"What happened to you?" she asked, reaching out to touch his face.

He jerked away, staggering into the wall. "Don't," he hissed leaning back. "Not in here."

She retracted her hand in shock and stood trembling before him, watching as he replaced his mask and helmet. Now fully concealed within his suit, he straightened up and tilted his head down to look at her. "You want to talk?" his robotic voice demanded.

She nodded, fighting the sudden onset of tears forming.

He grabbed her arm and gently ushered her to the door. "Fine. We can talk. But we do so in _my_ chamber." With a subtle push, he guided her into the passageway and strode for his quarters, his black cloak drifting in the air behind him.


	14. Chapter 12: Oriri ex Cinere

**Chapter 12: Oriri ex Cinere**

Sidious sat in his throne room pondering what he had just witnessed in the theatre. Despite seeing what his apprentice was capable of, shackled and restrained to a bed, she still had no fear in approaching him. The way she entered the room without so much as a second thought, standing before an enraged Sith completely grounded. Clearly she was stronger than he first thought.

But what concerned him more was the power she still appeared to have over him, even as he was now. That in his fit of fury, choking the doctor up against the wall, he still went limp in her presence. She still had that blasted hold over him. And that was something that needed to change. She needed to fear him and _he_ needed to make her.

But the question was how? He could of course punish him for his weakness encouraging him to lash out at her, but for how long would he tolerate it? Plus the lightening was only serving to weaken his already broken body more so, of that he was certain. Not that the good doctors had said as much yet, but he expected it. No, he needed to have something over her. Something that made her suddenly feel vulnerable.

A loud beeping came from his console and he accepted the call. "Yes, what is it?"

" _My lord, the two doctors are here and wish to speak with you."_

"Ah, perfect. Send them in."

The grand doors creaked open and Celeste and Aleria stepped inside, carrying their clipboards. Their white lab-coats shifted stiffly as they walked and both women seemed overly confident in their approach. They stopped before the stairs and bowed staring up at him.

"Ah, Celeste, Aleria I trust he wasn't too rough with you," Sidious purred, gesturing for them to join him. "Come, show me what you have discovered."

The two women ascended the stairs and dropped the clipboards down onto his obsidian desk. "We sustained no more injuries than usual my lord," Celeste replied, shooting a warning glance at her partner. "Although, Aleria is still a little shaken by his outburst."

He pulled the reports across the desk and opened them, briefly lifting his eyes over the folders. "Yes, I did see that. You ought to be more careful, doctor," he quipped, looking back down at the papers.

"As you can see from the results, his count is slightly below normal with a sustained mobility rate of just over fifty percent. However we will need to retest in seven days for an accurate reading, preferably _without_ him being electrocuted beforehand," the brunette stated, kicking out her hip and folding her arms.

Aleria stepped forward, leaning over the desk, her busty chest clearly visible over the top of her coat. "If you intend on him being able to actually do anything with these results _,_ might I suggest that you try and limit his exposure to extreme energy sources. His body is not recovering as fast as one would expect."

He thumbed through the pages, clicking his tongue and tapping his fingers upon the desk. "Do I detect a hint of compassion leaching from you my dear?" he snickered, glancing up at the redhead raising his brow.

Looking to the floor she squirmed in her shoes, drawing tiny circles on the marble with the toe. "He's just so young, my lord. With what we have at our disposal I am confused as to why we can't do more to ease his suffering," she answered sheepishly, regretting the decision to speak up at all.

He closed the folders and dropped his hands into his lap pushing back in his chair and eyeing her suspiciously. "Hmmm," he muttered, slowly raising his hand to stroke his wrinkled chin. Something dark flashed across his eyes and he leant forward staring at the young doctor. "Do not get too attached, Aleria. The nature of your relationship with him is what keeps you alive. Nothing more. In different circumstances he would have no hesitation in killing you, make no mistake."

"Yes my lord," she acquiesced with a curt nod.

Turning around, the Emperor faced the giant window and steepled his fingers together, methodically tapping each one. "Schedule the next session," he snarled, waving his hand above his chair dismissively. "Leave. Do not speak of this meeting. Particularly not to Lord Vader."

The two doctors noticed his shift in tone and took a cautious step back. "Yes my lord," they chorused, quickly turning away and descending the stairs.

* * *

 _LORD VADER'S PRIVATE CHAMBER_

Opening the door, Vader stood to the side allowing his wife to go in first. He kept his eyes glued to the floor, not wanting to look at her. So many emotions darted around in his mind. The elation of finding her alive. The confusion of what to do when he found her. The bitter heartache of watching her run away when he cried out to her in pain. The still undying disgust at her decision to betray him. Truthfully, he was lost. Hurting, angry and so very lost.

He followed her inside and closed the door, striding across the foyer to his workbench at the right. He still couldn't bring himself to look at her. Did she have any idea of how much she'd hurt him? Did he not tell her time and time again he was struggling? Or was she so caught up in her desperate fight to save others that she failed to see the one crying for help right in front of her.

He picked up his datapad and stood by the wall, leaning back against it.

"Anakin?" she asked, standing listlessly in the middle of his chamber where he'd left her.

He glanced up from the corner of his mask, not moving his head. "You wanted to talk. So talk. I'm listening," he snapped not moving from his place.

She nervously looked down to the floor and then back up at him, slowly making her way toward him.

"That's close enough. You don't need to touch me to speak," he growled, thumbing his screen and changing the report.

She stopped dead, her eyes staring up at him in shock. Folding her arms, she wrapped them around her body trying to combat the sudden chill in his tone. "What happened to you?" she whispered, a slight waver in her voice.

"I would think that was obvious," he replied darkly, still not moving.

"Please talk to me Ani. Don't shut me out like this," she pressed, taking another step toward him.

He lifted his head and dropped his datapad on the workbench, abruptly whirling to face her. "Don't call me that. I've no interest in hearing you speak to me like I'm some child you just rescued," he snarled, puffing his chest.

"But I don't treat you like that. I never did."

He waved his gloved hand dismissively in the air and stormed off, heading for a doorway to the left of the foyer. "I've also no interest in arguing with you. So forget it," he growled, charging for his bedroom.

She ran after him, seeing his cape flap in the distance. "Anakin wait!" she yelled.

Darting around the corner and down the passage she skidded to a halt by his door, seeing him standing rigidly by his bed. She stepped inside cautiously approaching his cloaked back, his hands balled into fists by his thighs.

"Please, speak to me. It's been nine months Anakin. I still love you. Every night I've wondered where you were or if you were alright," she cried, wiping a tear from her eye. "I've missed you."

He snorted. "That's odd. The last thing I remember was you bringing _Kenobi_ with you to kill me." He whirled to face her, taking a menacing step forward and jabbing his gloved finger. "That's a rather unusual way of showing someone you love them _Padmè._ Even for _you._ "

She folded her arms and scowled in return, trying her best to match his height and demeanour. "Well the last thing I remember is _you_ with your invisible hand around my throat trying to strangle me," she snapped back. "I was pregnant Anakin! I was carrying _our_ babies!"

He paused for a moment. Standing deathly still, his respirator hissing in the silence, he considered her words. _Strangled. Pregnant. Babies._ _Wait ... babies?_ His head snapped to face her.

"What did you just say?" he hissed, lunging forward and roughly grabbing her arms almost shaking her.

Her angry tear-filled eyes stared up into the bottomless tinted sockets of his mask. "What? You don't remember choking me?" she retorted standing tall, trying to ignore his crushing grip.

He shook his mask and growled, leaning so close to her face they were almost touching. "No _,_ _that_ I remember, quite _vividly_ in-fact," he hissed.

"Then _what_?"

His voice dropped to a deep threatening rumble, emphasizing his growing fury. "You ... said ... _babies_. Meaning plural. What happened to them Padmè? _Where_ are my children?"

For force sakes she'd slipped up, and of course he'd caught it. She cast her eyes to his control panel, the blinking green and red lights flashing hypnotically. She couldn't hold it in. She wanted – no needed – to tell him. Tears flooded from her eyes, cascading down her cheeks. "I ... I don't know Ani," she choked needing to let it all out, desperately wanting to throw herself into his arms.

"What do you mean you _don't_ _know_?" he growled.

Tears streaming down her face she stared up at his mask, wishing that she could see him. Wishing she could see his expression. She knew she was a mess but she couldn't help it. "I ... I woke up briefly on my ship asking after you and the next minute I was on some hospital bed in a strange medical facility surrounded by med-droids."

She blubbered and trembled in his grip and she could swear his hands slightly loosened around her. Stuttering in a shaky choked breath she continued. "O-Obi-wan was there, he held them when they were born."

At that moment she heard a deep throaty growl emanate from him and the air suddenly grew ice cold. Catching her breath she pressed on. "I ... I named them Luke and Leia. Everything after that is a blur. The last thing I remember was pleading to Obi-wan, telling him that there was still good in you. After that I'm sorry I ... I blacked out."

He released her and staggered back completely dumbfounded. Unable to speak he stood motionless, staring at the floor between them. His black helmet and mask gently swaying, reflecting the stark artificial lights in his bed-chamber. His midnight cloak dangling heavily by the heels of his black armoured combat boots.

"They ... they must have thought I was dead or something, because the next thing I remember is being trapped in a duraglass capsule on board some foreign ship, screaming and pounding on the lid for someone to hear me. I was so scared Ani. So scared and confused and alone. I'd lost everything that I cared about and the worst part was ... I didn't know how to find any of you. I had no comm unit, no coordinates, no idea as to where you were - or if you were even alive."

She dropped her head into her hands and fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

He was still in shock, the respirator skipping in and out erratically. Automatically, he sank to one knee ignoring the sudden sharp pang that radiated up his leg, and pulled her trembling body into him. His large black gloved hands wrapped tightly around her small shaking back. He couldn't say anything. He still didn't know how he felt. But right now all that mattered was that he had her. And she was hurting. Possibly as much as what he was.

• • •

The shower was running. The sound of water cascading from the rain head was soothing. Digging through his drawers, Vader pulled out one of his black undershirts and a set of sleep pants, gently laying them out over his bed. It wasn't much, but he wasn't exactly prepared for a woman in his chamber, let alone his long thought dead _wife_.

His mind was in turmoil. Rehashing every individual word that she'd said. In the end when the tears had finally ceased falling, he'd recommended she have a shower to freshen up; carrying her exhausted body into the fresher before walking away.

He lifted his gloved hands up, turning them over and inspecting them. For the most fleeting of moments, he'd imagined the water running along her body. The tiny rivers flowing smoothly along her supple breasts and cascading down the sensuous curves of her back. His suit suddenly grew tight at the hips. The vision abruptly vanished with the sound of his respirator thrumming. Such _desires_ were useless. Staring at the shiny black leather concealing his hands he woke up to reality.

How could _anyone_ want him as he was now? The parts of him that remained human were horrifically scarred from the burns he'd endured. Even the two doctors were shocked into a paralysed stupor when they'd first set their eyes upon him. And it was all because of _him._

Obi-wan Kenobi.

His desire to hunt down his old master was now burning hotter than the lava that birthed him. To learn that not only did he leave him screaming and burning alive after mutilating his body, but he then proceeded to abscond with his offspring, casting away their mother like some piece of trash.

He _hated_ him.

What he would give to be able to crush every insufferable bone in his worthless body. To feel them crackle and snap between his fingers. To watch his face contort and twist in agony as he methodically severed his limbs, one by one. First his right arm, then his left leg, followed by his other arm and lastly his ...

His comm unit beeped, pulling him from his macabre thoughts. His fists were still shaking, hanging dangerously close to the hilt of his lightsaber. Snatching the device from his belt, he glanced at it.

He was being summoned.

The shower stopped. Stuffing the unit back in his belt, he growled and headed for the door.

"Anakin?"

Her voice froze him in place, standing stiffly in the doorway. He stared straight ahead, not wanting to see her in such a beguiling manner. He was dangerous like this, and he knew it.

"You're leaving?" she whispered.

The tone of her voice was disarming. She sounded unsure and frightened. It took all of his strength not to turn around. "Yes," he ground out between his teeth. He heard the gentle pad of her bare feet on the carpet slowly edging closer. Grabbing the doorframe he held himself steady.

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes and fought the desperate scream that threatened to escape his lips. Why did this have to be so hard? Despite her betrayal, he did still love her. There was no doubt about that. But the hurt, the anger and the crippling pain he was feeling was overwhelming. Dipping his head, he stared blindly at the floor. "I'm being summoned. There's clean clothes on the bed. They'll be too big for you, but they're clean nonetheless. I'll send someone to retrieve your things when I return. Don't try to escape, you'll be disappointed."

With that he charged down the passage and left, his heavy stride pounding the floor. His master needed him. And he knew better than to keep him waiting.

* * *

 _TATOOINE: MOS EISLEY CANTINA_

The steady thrum of hypnotic music drifted on the stale musty air. Beings from all corners of the galaxy chattered in more languages than he could count, sitting in booths, fussing over stolen artefacts and wagering on the outcomes of the upcoming pod-races. The dark shadowy nature of this place was comforting, and suited his equally solemn mood. Draining his glass, Obi-wan thumped it down on the bar and called the bartender.

A tall thick set man lumbered over, drying a glass with a dirty stained cloth. "Don't you think you've had enough for today?" he grumbled, eyeing the groggy Jedi over.

"I've had enough to last a lifetime," he groaned, shoving the glass forward. "Just get me another."

The bartender refilled the glass with the strange fluorescent green alcohol. It smelled reminiscent of Bantha urine and didn't taste much better. But it's effects were potent, and in his current state it was just what he needed.

"That's the last one Ben," the bartender muttered, dropping the glass down before him. "After that, I'm cutting you off."

Obi-wan picked up his drink and took a gulp, wincing slightly from the acidic burn. He slumped forward and groaned, resting his sand-crusted head upon his arms.

A familiar melody, fast paced and heavy beated rang out over the band and he tilted his head to stare at the screen hanging on the far wall. It was the Holonet News, the Empire's primary station for distributing their propaganda.

"I wonder what bantha-excrement they're pushing out this time," he groaned, rubbing his eyes to dislodge the alcohol-induced fog.

" _Citizens of Theed are in shock today as the news of Queen Apailana's death rocked the city. No-one knows the exact details of her demise, but our sources indicate she was secretly funding a rogue group of Jedi planning an attack on the Imperial Center._

 _Emperor Palpatine has issued a stern warning to all who are considering such acts that this behaviour will not be tolerated. Stating that those found to be engaging in such blatant acts against the Empire will be dealt with swiftly and severely._

 _On related news he has also appointed a new Supreme Commander, Darth Vader, to oversee all military operations and spearhead this offensive; declaring him as not only the head of the armed forces, but also his right hand man with regards to his reign."_

Obi-wan stared at the screen in horror, grabbing his glass and gulping it's horrid contents down in one shaky movement. _No ... it can't be. No-one could have survived that. Not even him._ He tipped the glass over and unceremoniously dropped his money onto the bar beside it. Securing his dusty brown hood around his face, he glanced nervously around the cantina and hurried for the door.

* * *

 _JUNDLAND WASTES: LARS HOMESTEAD_

"Owen, Beru. Where are you?" Obi-wan announced busting through the door and into the crater courtyard. He spun around in place by the central water vaporators shielding the harsh afternoon sun from his eyes.

A short woman, with dark hair twisted into a messy bun ducked out from the kitchen carrying a handful of bottles. "Obi-wan? Is that you?" she called out, stepping into the crater.

His grey eyes locked onto her and he staggered forward, rapidly sobering the longer he thought. "Beru, thank the force. Where is Luke? Is he hidden?" he gasped, a slight hint of panic tinting his thick coruscanti accent.

She raised her brow and put her arm around his sandy-robed shoulders guiding him into the dining quarters. "He is sleeping. You worry too much. Come inside and sit down, you look dreadful."

"Thank you my lady," he groaned, thudding awkwardly onto the chair and dropping his hood. His auburn hair was a mess, his beard unkempt and his skin was tanned and dry.

"You've been drowning your sorrows again, haven't you?" she scolded walking over to the table to fetch some water and cold cloths. "Here, clean yourself up and have some water. Then we can talk."

He picked up one of the damp towels and dragged it soothingly over his tired face, wiping the sand and dirt from his skin. Taking one of the cups, he skulled back the water, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robe.

"Now," Beru stated, gently sitting down beside him. "What's all this fuss about?"

His desolate grey eyes stared up into hers. Dropping both hands onto her knees he tried to formulate what he wanted to say without causing her to panic. "Luke's father is _alive._ "

She stared at him, her head slightly pulling back. "Who? Anakin? I thought you said he was dead and that's why we needed to take care of him. Isn't that why you brought him here in the first place?"

He nodded turning his gaze to the floor. "I presumed he was dead, apparently I was wrong."

"What are you trying to say Obi-wan? That Anakin might come back for his son?"

He shook his head and sighed. "No _Anakin_ is not coming back. Anakin is _never_ coming back."

She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her elbow. "You're talking in riddles again. You know I hate it when you do that."

He rose from his seat and dragged his hand through his hair, starting to stagger and pace around the small room. "I just saw a report on the holonet. A Sith Lord, known as Darth Vader was recently appointed Supreme Commander of the Imperial Armed Forces."

"So?"

Obi-wan shook his head in despair, a small tear slipping down his cheek. "That was the name the Emperor gave Anakin when he renounced the Jedi Order."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

 _My apologies for the shorter chapter, it needed to finish here. I hope you're all enjoying it so far. Padmè doesn't stay the broken hearted wife for long, but when faced with Anakin and the anguish she's suffered, she needed an outlet._

 _Please read and review and I said before feel free to message your ideas and thoughts, one can never have too many muses._

 _MTFBWY_


	15. Chapter 13: Domini Tenere

**Chapter 13: Domini Tenere**

The grand doors to the throne room creaked open, the stark lights of the corridor permeating the vast stygian chamber. Vader strode forward, his cape billowing in the air and his boots thumping heavily across the polished marble. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, he lowered to one knee and leant forward submissively.

Behind the mask, the fire was still raging. The violent throb of his heart beating like the imminent drums of war. He wanted Kenobi, now more than ever. Not only to avenge what he did to his body, but to also get back at him for what he did to his wife. His anger was rolling off him, twisting and spiralling through the force like a whirlwind.

And his master had noticed the moment he set foot through the door.

"You summoned me, my master?" he growled, keeping his head down.

"Ah, Lord Vader. Rise, my friend," Sidious purred, as he skulked down the stairs.

Rising to his feet, Vader hooked his hands in his belt and watched his master approach him. He could feel the cold prickle against the edge of his conscious, poking, prodding; sifting meticulously through his thoughts. Lowering his shields, he let him in, allowing the malevolent tendrils to invade and dissect every shadowy crevice of his mind.

Only one topic was off-limits. Locked away tight. Buried. Hidden. Secured deep within the ashes of his former identity.

His children.

There was no way he was allowing him near the notion of their existence. Dark-side or not, and for reasons he outright refused to comprehend, the charred remains of Anakin Skywalker was keeping _that_ thought to himself.

Sidious paused before him. His burning yellow eyes drifting over his apprentice like a hunter stalking his prey. "I can _feel_ your anger. You want him don't you?" he sneered.

Vader gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "Yes, my master."

"We've discussed this," he scolded, turning away. "Kenobi's time will come, as for now you are required to remain here."

"Here master?"

The Emperor whirled to face him, his grey claw-like hands hanging limply before him. "Yes, here," he snapped.

Vader could feel his irritation at his questioning and waited for the lightening to strike. His master's eyes were smouldering, the amber orbs flaming intensely. Even his fingers were twitching. But strangely enough, the lightening never came. He furrowed his hairless brow inside the mask, eyeing his master suspiciously. Something had made him stay his hand, but what?

"Come, my apprentice. Walk with me," Sidious stated, slowly turning in place and slithering toward the door.

He followed him, his heavy stride making short work of the distance between them. When they reached the doors, they were side by side, the master in his concealing hooded robe and the apprentice cloaked in black. They strode past the royal red guards and out into the passage, their gaits perfectly synchronized.

"So tell me, Lord Vader. How are things with your wife?" Sidious asked.

Vader contemplated his question, his mask briefly turning to assess his master's expression. "Things are ... _complicated_ ," he replied.

"That is to be expected."

His gaze shifted to the passage up ahead, seeing two of his troopers saunter toward them, both giving a respectful nod of their helmets as they passed. He sighed, the sound coming out distorted through the vocoder. "She said she still loves me," he started, flexing his fingers. "But her actions betray her."

"You don't trust her?" Sidious purred, a sinister smile creeping over his face.

There was a brief pause as Vader tried in-vain to sort through his thoughts. He couldn't understand how she could say such things, after she'd just left him to be tortured, running away without batting an eyelid. Then there was her betrayal. He shook his head, banishing the sombre memories from his mind. "Not entirely, master. No."

Reaching the turbo-lift, they stepped inside, turning around to face the door. His master selected the floor and the lift began its descent.

"Your fears are justified, my apprentice," Sidious stated, glancing up at him. "Women are complex creatures, none more-so than Padmè."

"Complex indeed," he sneered, folding his arms.

"Did you discuss your concerns with her?"

"No."

Sidious placed his gnarly hand upon Vader's armoured shoulder. "Perhaps you should use these next few days to do so. I foresee her being a great asset _if_ she can be made to see reason."

His mask slowly turned, glancing guardedly at his master. " _Made_ to see reason?"

The Emperor stared straight ahead, keeping his face hidden. "Yes, my apprentice. If she refuses, enlighten her on the expectations of being married to a Sith," he hissed, his amber eyes burning beneath the hood.

Turning his head back to the door, Vader stared deep in thought. He knew what he was implying, but could he actually do it? Hoping he would never need to find out, he exhaled, the steady hiss seeping from his respirator. "Yes, my master," he replied submissively.

The lift pulled to a stop and the doors opened. They had arrived at the main hangar quadrant, and Vader's interest was suddenly piqued. He followed his master into the corridor, once again matching his pace stride for stride, his cape lazily swaying left and right. At the end of the passage was a large grey blast door, reinforced with trapezoidal supports. His master paused, waving it open, revealing the main palace hangar.

The moment they entered, the Imperial Officers scampered around trying to look busy. Every so often one would look at them before making a hasty exit. The sector was filled with minor ships of all makes and models; some commissioned by the Empire, others captured or seized. His master headed for the small squad of TIE-fighters grouped to the side. Hidden behind them was a battered old freighter, sporting the letters 'R.S.M.A.' painted on the hull.

They neared the ship and two men wearing orange flight suits clambered down the ramp walking towards them.

Vader instantly stiffened, eyeing both men with guarded scepticism. His fingers danced over the hilt of his lightsaber, ready to defend his master at the slightest hint of danger.

"At ease my friend. I was expecting them," the Emperor said.

"As you wish," he acknowledged, rocking back on his heels and folding his arms.

The two men walked closer, one blonde and scruffy the other with dark greasy hair slicked to the side. "My Lord, we have your shipment as promised," the greasy one announced, pointing to his ship. As if on cue two droids stumbled along the ramp, guiding hover-crates down onto the platform and pulling them to rest by the bow.

"Good, good. Is that all of it?" the Emperor inquired, looking at the two crates curiously.

"No my Lord, there are two more." He glanced over his shoulder to see one of the droids losing control of the crate he was moving. It shuddered and skidded, heading straight for the ramp pylon. "Oi, be careful with that you oversized rust bucket!" he yelled rolling his eyes. "Those crates are worth more than you are!"

" _Sorry sir,"_ the droid replied, quickly straightening the crate and gently lowering it down beside the others.

The Emperor stepped forward, his eyes moving between the crates and the men in the flight suits. "Thank you gentlemen," he said handing a small holodisk to the greasy one. "Your payment as agreed. I trust the package comes with all relevant schematics?"

"Yes my Lord," he replied, taking the disk from his hand and smiling smugly. "It's a pleasure doing business, Sir. As always the guys back at headquarters welcome your feedback, feel free to tell 'em how quick we were."

"Quite," Sidious replied. He waved his hand dismissing them and turned briefly to the hangar bay, signalling two nearby officers. They hurried over, being careful not to look at Vader.

"Yes my lord?" they asked standing to attention.

"Take these to Lord Vader's chamber and have the engineers meet you there. Make sure that none of it is damaged in the process."

"At once my lord."

They got to work immediately, moving over to the crates, activating the repulsor-lifts and guiding them from the hangar.

Vader thudded up beside his master, watching the crates being shifted one after the other. "What is this?" he demanded, instantly suspicious.

His master snickered and kept his hooded head trained on the officers moving his precious cargo. "Call it a belated wedding gift."

• • •

Padmè heard the door open and quickly dropped his datapad back on the workbench. Tugging the black shirt down toward her knees, she stared at the door in shock. Vader strode inside, quickly moving into the foyer and turning his mask toward her.

"Anakin?" she gasped.

His silent gaze lingered on her momentarily before sharply returning to the door. The Emperor entered, his eyes travelling over her body. He stepped further into the foyer, making way for the officers to bring the crates inside.

"Take them into the back room and set them down," he ordered.

"Right away my lord," the officers acknowledged, pushing the cargo through the foyer and out the large twin doors straight ahead.

Padmè tried to see through the doors but they quickly slid closed before she could get a closer look.

Vader turned to his master, his respirator echoing in the oppressive silence. "What is it?" he asked again.

"You will see soon enough, my friend," he answered his eyes drifting back over to Padmè still standing half-dressed by the workbench. The undershirt she was wearing was miles too big. The neck hanging loosely upon her shoulders leaving one exposed and then draping down over her hips, finishing just short of her knees. "While you wait why don't the two of you take a trip. Republica Boulevard perhaps? I think your wife would appreciate it."

"Yes, my master."

• • •

The ride in the confined two person speeder was silent, with neither one of them daring to speak. Her Sith husband seemingly focused on piloting like a madman through the busy sky lanes and she still trying to process their last argument. Not that it was much of an argument, she had ended up doing most of the talking, with him being too stubborn to open up to her. She wondered if things would ever get better. He wasn't her Anakin anymore, but surely he had to still be in there somewhere. She just needed to coax him back out, but the question was how?

They pulled up to the private landing platform outside of her old apartment and sat silently before moving. It was odd being back here. It all seemed so much longer than nine months since everything had gone so horribly wrong.

The speeder shifted and Vader got up, releasing the hatch and climbing out. His cape billowed in the wind as he held his gloved hand out to help her.

She stared up into his mask, wondering what expression was on his face at this moment. "Thank you," she whispered taking his hand and allowing him to guide her down. She fell forward and thumped into his chest. Instantly he caught her, holding her close.

"Be careful," he scolded, setting her back down on her feet.

That was the first thing he'd said to her since he'd left to meet with his master. She wondered if being back here was affecting him, after all it had been _their_ apartment for all intents and purposes.

He pulled back slightly and gestured to the entrance, not moving from his place. With a sigh she turned and crossed the deck, her eyes drifting across the platform.

Stepping inside she saw everything was precisely how she'd left it. The furniture was the same, the decor was the same. Kriff even her datapad was still sitting on the sofa where he'd left it. She heard his boots thudding in the distance behind her. He was following, just keeping back. She spun around and faced him, her eyes brimming with tears. "It's exactly how I left it. How?" she breathed.

"I bought the building," he stated flatly, folding his arms. "Your things are still here."

She gasped, not knowing what to do. "My clothes?" she asked.

"That is why we are here," he replied.

He followed her into her – their – bedroom and watched as she rummaged through her wardrobe, pulling out dresses and holding them against her. Some were too big; a solemn reminder of the loss of their children, others appearing as though they would still fit. "I always liked that one," he stated as she held up a simple black gown.

"I remember," she replied quietly, walking over and placing it down on the bed.

He sighed, struggling to stay in the room. There were too many memories. Some good, some really good and others he would rather forget. He needed to get out. Turning on his heel, he strode out the door and down the corridor, heading for the verandah.

Padmè watched him leave and quickly grabbed a suitcase to pack her clothes into. Returning to the wardrobe she stumbled across one of his spare Jedi robes. She held it to her face, inhaling its scent. It still smelled of him, that familiar musky sweetness that she used to adore. A wayward tear breached her eye and trickled along her cheek. Even though he was here, she still missed him; missed the closeness they once shared. Wiping her face, she folded the garment and tucked it in with her dresses, unwilling to leave it behind. Grabbing a small wooden box from her bedside drawer, she stuffed it inside, zipped up the case then picked it up heading for the door.

The scene was unnervingly familiar. The afternoon sun was beating down, illuminating the stone pillars and outdoor sitting area. Her husband was perched upon the left wall by the lamp overlooking the now dry water fountain. Even his stance was the same, his long legs gently resting on the floor.

The sunlight bounced off his glossy black helmet and shoulder armour, reflecting blindingly across the columns around him. She cautiously stepped out onto the verandah, slowly making her way down the stairs. "Anakin?" she called out.

There was a long awkward silence and for a moment she wondered if he'd heard her at all.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, his voice oddly strained.

He had heard her after all. "Why did I do what?" she asked, slowly walking closer.

He paused again, allowing his breathing to cycle several times before responding. "Betray me like that."

So that's what he was so deep in thought about. She moved closer, stopping right next to him. His mood had shifted, she could tell by his posture. His back was relaxed, his shoulders were slumped forward and his head was dipped down as if staring at the floor. "But, I didn't betray you," she whispered, hoping he'd actually listen this time.

His head suddenly snapped to face her, the tinted lenses of his mask not giving anything away. "Don't _lie_ to me Padmè," he groaned, sounding more exhausted than angry.

She walked around and sat down beside him, gently resting her hand on his thigh. Staring up into his mask she took a deep breath. "Anakin, I didn't know he was on my ship."

He turned his head back to the floor. "I find that difficult to believe."

She squeezed his leg, trying to get through to him. "Listen to me, please."

He silently turned back to look at her, his respirator eerily hissing in and out.

"He came here, the day after you left. He asked me where you were and I refused to tell him. I left to find you myself, hoping that if I could just get you to listen, we could run away and raise our family, leaving everything else behind."

Her words dredged up the traumatic vision of her pleading for him to go with her. They were the same ones she'd said that night. A dull ache struck his chest. "How did he get on your ship?"

"He must've snuck on-board without me realizing. I loved you Anakin, and I still do. Believe me when I say, I was just as shocked to see him there as you were." She gently took his gloved hand in hers, praying to Shiraya that he had heard her.

He returned his gaze to the floor, his breathing shallow and uneven. A strange rumbling growl resonated from his mask. Pulling his hand away, he staggered to his feet and strode off, heading back into the apartment.

* * *

 _TATOOINE: MOS EISLEY SPACEPORT_

The Tantive III slowly lowered into the concealed hangar, its downward thrusters gently guiding it to the ground. Landing gear securely planted on the compressed sand hard-stand, Captain Antilles activated the boarding ramp so he could unload his passengers.

The three Jedi and handmaiden sat pensively around the console in the conference room, all waiting to hear back from Obi-wan. A shrill set of beeps and whistles sounded from the door.

They all turned to stare at the strange pair before them. Coming through the doorway was a tall gold protocol droid and a stunted blue and white astromech. "Excuse me, but Captain Antilles wishes to advise that we have arrived at Mos Eisley," the protocol droid announced.

Sabè stared at the small astromech, excitedly bouncing from side to side. "You're R2-D2 aren't you?" she exclaimed instantly recognizing them.

The small dome shaped droid beeped again.

"And you," she said pointing at the yellow droid, "aren't you C-3PO?"

"Why yes. I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. My apologies, but I don't appear to have your identity in my memory-bank. Who did you say you were?" he asked.

The handmaiden shot to her feet, hurrying over and crouching down before the astromech. She affectionately rubbed her hand over its shiny domed head. "It's been so long my little friend. I'm so happy to see you both, you must miss them terribly."

" _Newouuw,"_ Artoo sadly whistled in response.

She looked up to the protocol droid hovering over her and smiled. "I am Sabè, Threepio. Padmè's handmaiden. Are you certain you don't remember me?" she asked.

"The protocol droid's mind has been wiped for security reasons my lady," Captain Antilles announced, standing in the doorway. "You are free to take them if they belong to you. They were both transferred into my service at the end of the war, although they are surplus to my needs. Plus the small one tends to be a bit eccentric."

She smiled, remembering the different adventures they'd shared together. "Yes he does, it's what makes him so special." She gazed up at the Captain. "Are you certain you don't need them?"

"Positive my lady. Now if you are all ready, there is a land speeder outside waiting to take you wherever you need to go."

The three Jedi eyed their newest companions. Their small, somewhat inconspicuous group was fast becoming a rather large, easily identifiable party. Ferus's personal comm unit beeped and he quickly pulled it from his robe.

"Olin here, come in Kenobi."

" _Ferus, your transport should have arrived by now. I've paid the driver, you simply need to tell him who you are and he knows the rest. Quickly, things have just become considerably more complicated."_

"Understood Obi-wan, Olin out."

Ferus rose from his seat and grabbed his bag, glancing between his companions. "Well, you all heard him, let's get moving," he stated, making for the door.

"Yes master," Jaina and Caleb chorused, following him.

Sabè looked to the two droids and smiled. "Come along you two, we don't want to keep our Jedi friends waiting now, do we?" she said also following them out.

* * *

 _JUNDLAND WASTES: LARS HOMESTEAD_

The land speeder pulled to a stop just before a hooded figure standing in front of a small domed structure. The pilot turned around, his face obscured by a pair of thick black goggles and cloth mouth guard. "Well, we're here. If you lot need anything, Ben knows how to reach me," he stated, his gravelly voice distorted by the fabric.

The group exited the speeder and retrieved their things, thanking the driver for his time. As they headed for the hovel, the speeder drove off toward the barren dunes, leaving a cloud of sand in its wake. Then the hooded figure approached them.

"Ferus Olin, my it has been a long time," Obi-wan greeted.

"A long time indeed, Master Kenobi. Allow me to introduce you to my two padawans, Jaina and Caleb," Ferus replied, motioning for them to come forward.

They both bowed out of respect, keeping their robes held in tight.

"A pleasure," he said, his tired grey eyes slowly drifting to the silent handmaiden, noticing the absence of the former Senator. He glanced to the floor before turning around. "Come, let us get out of this heat. After nine months on this planet, I'm still struggling to adjust to the harsh climate."

Obi-wan guided the group down into the homestead where Beru greeted them and escorted them into the sitting area.

"So this is where you have been hiding," Ferus announced taking one of the glasses of water from Beru.

"I wouldn't exactly call it hiding, Ferus. My purpose here is of far greater importance than I expect you to understand," Obi-wan replied, crossing his legs.

"More important than building the rebellion?" Ferus asked.

Watching Beru carry the infant into the room and lowering him down into the highchair, Obi-wan sighed stroking his beard. "Yes," he muttered.

Sabè noticed his attention on the young child and instantly ground her teeth. He appeared to be around the same age as the young girl with Senator Organa and his wife. Jaina had picked up on _her_ force abilities then. Padmè was constantly saying she'd had twins; two babies both a boy and a girl.

Rising from her seat she glanced at the child and then shot an accusing stare at the Jedi before suddenly storming from the room.

All eyes followed the retreating handmaiden as she strode back out into the crater.

"Please excuse me for a moment," Obi-wan stated, rising from his seat and following her out. When he stepped back into the blistering heat, he saw her standing by the central vaporators with her head in her hands. "Sabè is everything alright?" he asked.

The afternoon sun was beating down on her, the radiating heat rippling from their surroundings in subtle waves. She lifted her head and stared into the air keeping her back to him. "Didn't you notice someone was missing Master Kenobi?" she snapped.

"Yes Sabè, I did."

She spun to face him, her angry eyes filling with tears. "And you didn't care enough to ask why? Are you so caught up in your precious mission that her life is now unimportant?"

"I didn't say that," he replied, dragging his hand roughly through his hair.

Wiping her cheek, she stepped toward him, folding her arms tight over her chest. "That baby in there," she stated, glancing back at the sitting room entrance. "It's Padmè's isn't it?"

"Yes."

She shook her head in disbelief, launching into an aggravated pace. She strode back and forth, piecing it all together. "And the girl with the Organa's?" she demanded.

Obi-wan let out an exhausted sigh, folding his arms and staring at the sandy floor. "Yes," he answered.

"For nine months I have consoled Padmè," Sabè stated, continuing to pace. "I held her while she wept into my shoulder. I listened to her wake up in the middle of the night screaming; desperate for answers." She stopped and stared at him, tears raining down her face. "Do you have any idea what that is like? To hold a heartbroken mother in your arms begging and pleading for a chance to see her own children?"

"I thought she was dead Sabè," he defended.

The handmaiden dried her eyes growing angrier by the minute. She stabbed her finger at his face. "Yes, and apparently so did her husband. Except now, he has her."

"What? When?" he asked in shock. "How do you know this? Did you see him?"

"He took her Obi-wan! Anakin or should I say Darth Vader, captured her at the palace. We didn't stand a chance against him and his clone troopers. Before we could get her onto the ship, one of them shot her with a kriffing stun bolt knocking her out cold."

He silently stared at the floor, repeatedly stroking his beard.

"I don't know what he'll do to her, but after witnessing him slaughter countless people in Theed, not to mention the cold-blooded murder of Queen Apailana, I'm afraid. We have to help her Obi-wan."

"I can't risk it Sabè. I'm sorry. Padmè is strong, she can no doubt take care of herself," he dismissed turning to walk back into the sitting room.

The handmaiden threw her hands onto her hips. "How long do you think you have before he comes for them Obi-wan? Days? Weeks? You know him better than any of us," she called out.

He abruptly stopped and faced her, his expression tight with concern.

"Tell me, Master Jedi ..." she challenged, raising her brow. "What would Anakin do if he found out you had his children? Now imagine that with the entire Imperial Armed Forces at his disposal. We're talking star destroyers, star fighters and thousands of clone troopers all waiting on _his_ command."

He sighed, unable to refute her damning argument.

"Still believe you can't risk it? Because the way I see it, you can't afford not to."


	16. Chapter 14: Dilaceratio

**Chapter 14: Dilaceratio**

 _IMPERIAL PALACE: CORUSCANT_

Vader stood to the side waiting for his wife to enter. His master was gone and so too were the officers and engineers. His curiosity was in overdrive, going over hundreds of different things that could've been in those crates. And more importantly what effect they could ultimately have on him.

Padmè stepped inside, pulling her rolling case behind her and stopped in the foyer. She too was curious as to what was inside those crates, as well as what lied behind the double doors in front of her. She watched her husband as he closed the door. He hadn't said more than two words since they left the apartment, instead seemingly lost in his own thoughts. She cleared her throat trying to get his attention. "Where did you want me to put my things?" she asked.

His mask slowly turned toward her. "You may have my bed chamber. It is of no use to me," he replied dismissively, heading toward the closed doors.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She started to walk toward the passage, pausing to glance once more at him. It was difficult to tell if he was affected by their visit to the apartment or not, since he wasn't offering any indications either way. After their brief talk on the verandah she'd hoped that he might have given her some clue that he'd heard her. Instead he seemed to go straight back to ignoring her, now striding straight for the twin doors and waving them open, as if she wasn't even there. "Anakin?" she whispered.

He stopped in the doorway. "Yes Padmè," he replied.

"If I am to be occupying your room, where will you sleep?"

He slowly turned in her direction. "I don't sleep much. That bed is redundant. My _condition_ prevents me from using it."

Her heart ached for him. Almost every human activity had been stripped away along with his limbs. She was beginning to wonder if he even ate real food anymore. He went to walk into the room and she panicked, not wanting him to leave just yet. "How do you eat?" she asked, immediately chastising herself for the ludicrous question.

He turned to face her, folding his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the doorframe. It was such a familiar stance that she could almost imagine the amused look on his face.

"Like normal?" he quipped.

"But the mask, it covers your face."

"It has its challenges, but I rarely bother. I have _alternate_ methods of sustaining myself."

She dropped her eyes to the floor. "Oh I see," she whispered.

"Is there anything else you wish to ask, Padmè?" he asked, still leaning on the doorframe.

There were so many questions swimming around her mind at this moment, especially with how he suddenly seemed content with indulging her curiosity. "Will it ever get any better?" she whispered, tears slowly welling in her eyes as she stared up at him.

"Will _what_ get any better?"

She tried to hold in the tears. "Us?" she whispered.

He pulled away from the doorframe and stood tall, tipping his helmeted head off to the side. " _Us?_ " he asked.

"Yes, can we fix this?"

Trying to remain calm, he turned back to face the doors, lifting his gloved hand up to rest on the frame. Allowing his breathing to cycle, he contemplated his next words. " _Fix_ this?" he snorted. "I thought you didn't _want_ to know me anymore." He spun to face her, folding his arms tight across his chest. "Isn't _that_ what you said?"

She took an automatic step forward, reaching out to touch him. "Anakin, I ..." she choked, hearing the pain in his words.

He quickly turned away holding his hand up to silence her. "Enough Padmè, I am exhausted. There is an intercom in my room. Use it to order yourself something to eat."

He went to step in through the double doors and she froze in place, trying to think of something -anything - to say to stop him from disappearing. He was talking now and she desperately wanted to sort things out, especially if she was to be staying here indefinitely. "Ani wait."

He paused and dropped his head forward. "Padmè ... I _need_ to rest," he groaned.

"Can I come in there with you?"

His breathing audibly stuttered. The respirator jolting and clicking before finding its rhythm. Lifting his head back up, his posture suddenly went rigid. The mask snapped around and she could swear he was glaring at her from inside. "No."

Vader strode in through the doors and quickly closed them behind him, slumping back against the durasteel.

 _Fix this? What does she mean 'fix this'? Does she actually want me now? Is that what she wants?_

He was so caught up in trying to sort through everything that he failed to see the difference in his room.

" _Lord Vader."_

He heard his master's voice and immediately broke from his thoughts, staring at the blue holo-image that had suddenly materialized before him. "Yes my master," he acknowledged with a slight bow.

"I _see_ you have returned from your little trip. Tell me, my apprentice, what do you think of my _gift_?" the Emperor purred.

Vader turned to look at the newest addition to his quarters. It reminded him of a prison cell or confinement chamber. The reinforced duraglass walls framed by heavy duty alloy beams and struts, all riveted together to form a large rectangular tank. Connected to the ceiling were a series of corrugated pipes and tubes that disappeared up into the panels of his room. Upon closer inspection he noticed inside was furnished; black curtains hung in every corner and a flashing console desk sat to the side, complete with a leather recliner and small fold down sofa. "What is it?" he asked, hooking his hands into his belt.

"A prototype," Sidious said. "It is a custom-made hyperbaric chamber. When inside you will be able to breathe without the mask."

Vader did a double-take, glancing at the tank then back to his master. Here he offered an exchange from one prison for another. Freedom from the claustrophobic confines of his mask; the price, the total imprisonment of his body. A cage, a cell, albeit one he could breathe in. He paused, staring at the chamber sceptically. " _How_ does it work?" he asked.

"There are controls inside. I trust you can decipher them."

The blue apparition vanished, leaving the dark lord alone with his new cage. The thought of removing his helmet was indeed tempting, but the motives behind this 'gift' had him wary. His master never did anything without purpose. And he certainly _never_ gifted without expectation of repayment.

He moved to the duraglass chamber, slowly running his gloved hand along the slippery walls. It whispered promises of relief, of escape, but he was hesitant. Was it a trap? Was this just another way for him to be tortured and tormented? He yanked his hand back, his fingers burning inside the leather glove. There was still work to be done, he could entertain his body's growing fatigue later. Right now he had three Jedi to find.

• • •

Padmè decided to unpack her clothes while she waited for her dinner to arrive. It was strange being in his room. It was cold and clinical. The bed was massive, with heavy black linens and a leather upholstered bedhead. Hung on the wall above was some type of medical monitor and oxygen mask, in-between two lamps that she couldn't find the remotes for anywhere. The only other furniture in the room being a large recliner chair and two bedside drawers, both of which still contained an assortment of his clothes.

Unzipping her case, she pulled out the dresses and took them into the robe, pushing aside one of his spare suits to make room. That in itself was a challenge, the thing weighed so much that she wondered how he managed to wear it all day. Hanging the garments up, she went back to the bed and nervously glanced to the door. She didnt know how he'd react to seeing his old robe, suddenly fearful that he'd rip it out of her hands and destroy it without a moment's hesitation.

Clutching it to her chest, she hung it up amongst her gowns and tried her best to conceal it. Perhaps one day she would wear it, as a reminder to him of his past. But not today. There was only one thing left in her case now; the small wooden box. She traced her finger along the intricate carvings on the sides. Sitting down on the bed, she cradled it in her hands and closed her eyes, gently prying the lid open. The lid creaked as it released and she slowly peered inside.

This was her most precious possession. A gift that to unknowing eyes would seem odd or downright disturbing. Fingers shaking she gently retrieved it from the deep red velvet surrounds and delicately laid it across her palms. His blonde padawan braid. It was still as soft as the day she got it, the ends neatly cauterized where they'd been severed by the lightsaber.

Becoming a Jedi knight was one of the most important moments in a young Jedi's life. She knew how much that had meant to him, remembered his eagerness to face the trials. The saddest part was, that she never got to celebrate with him before he was thrust back into the throes of war. And when he returned, he was different, scarred, unsettled, almost haunted.

Closing her hands around the lengthy lock of hair, she lifted it to her face and broke down. Releasing all of her pain and anger at once, the river of tears raining down her cheeks. She'd already started to lose him then, she just hadn't realized.

The door bell rang dragging her from her melancholy. Placing the braid back in the box, she tucked it into his top drawer and headed for the foyer. She noticed the double doors were still closed, with him assumedly still inside. With a sigh she crossed the marble and opened the door. Standing in the passage was a female Imperial officer dressed in all black, holding a tray with her food. "Hi," she greeted, unsure of what else to say.

The woman's cold blue eyes narrowed, eyeing her over like some dirty peasant on the streets. She was being judged, even here in her own husband's living quarters. " _Where_ is Lord Vader?" the woman demanded.

Padmè reached out to take the tray from her, doing her best to stay level-headed. "He is busy. Thank you for bringing my dinner," she replied.

The officer begrudgingly released the tray, trying to see past Padmè and into the suite. Raising her brow she folded her arms. "And who might you be?" she inquired.

The double doors slid open and Vader thundered out, charging across the chamber to stand protectively behind his wife. "Is there a problem Lieutenant?" he rumbled, the deep baritone of his voice edged with promise.

"Not at all Lord Vader, I was merely enquiring as to who this intruder was in your chamber," she back-pedalled, staring up at him wide-eyed.

The sound of his breathing echoed in the foyer, as he gently placed one hand on each of Padmè's shoulders. "She is my wife, and you will do well to remember that. Do I make myself clear, _Lieutenant?_ " he snarled.

She gazed between the two of them, taking a large nervous step back and absently caressing her neck. "Yes my lord, sorry my lord," she apologized, quickly retreating back down the corridor.

Padmè stared in shock at the door as it whooshed closed. The way the woman instantly rubbed her throat did not escape her and it made her mind race. His boots thudded away, heading back towards the double doors. She spun to face him, holding the tray tight. "Do you make a habit of choking your subordinates?" she asked angrily.

He ground to a halt, suddenly whirling to face her. "What?!" he barked back.

"That Lieutenant. She rubbed her throat when you spoke to her. Do you choke all of your officers or just the women?"

"I come out to protect you and _that's_ what you say to me?" Grinding his teeth, he waved the double doors open and stood to the side, folding his arms with a rumbling growl. It was time she saw what he had become. Time to face the truth of what her betrayal had done to him. He was done hiding himself. Done trying to keep his true purpose concealed.

"Come here Padmè. Bring your food with you," he hissed.

* * *

 _TATOOINE: JUNDLAND WASTES: LARS HOMESTEAD_

Obi-wan led Sabè back into the sitting room, and everyone fell silent watching them enter. Luke stared up at him from the highchair, his arms raised in the air and bouncing. He walked over to the child and lifted him up, cradling him into his arms. "I'm here, young one, I'm here," he cooed, carrying him over to the armchair and sitting down.

"So ...," Sabè said, crossing her legs. "How are we going to do this?"

Ferus and Caleb both turned their eyes to the handmaiden. "How are we going to do what?" Ferus asked.

"Rescue Padmè of course," she replied.

"That's presuming she's still alive, Sabè," Caleb grunted, folding his arms.

Obi-wan sighed, leaning back into the chair with Luke on his lap. "Oh ... she's still alive," he muttered.

"And how do you know that, Master Kenobi?" Caleb demanded.

The weary Jedi's stormy eyes grew distant. "Because I know _him_ ," he groaned, wrapping his arms around Luke.

Cocking his brow and leaning forward, Ferus stared at him. That statement had piqued his curiosity ten-fold. "You know Darth Vader, Obi-wan?" he asked.

"Master," Jaina whispered, the conversation pulling her from her meditation. "Please, go easy on him. This is harder for Master Kenobi than you realise."

Her voice was but a whisper, filled with a deep-seeded pain. Her crystal blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. Obi-wan met her gaze and felt her staring into the very depths of his soul. This young padawan seemed to know everything, but he couldn't place her at the temple. "Who was your master, young one?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"I was training as a Diviner under Master Jocasta Nu before the purge. Please excuse Master Olin, he doesn't know any better."

Ferus glanced between the two Jedi, his brows knotted in confusion.

So she had the gift of sight. That explained it. Rising from his seat, Obi-wan carried Luke across the sitting room and into the kitchen, handing him to Beru. "Please, take him. I need to go," he said, feeling the child's absence the moment he left his arms.

"Do you think we're in danger Obi-wan?" she asked, concern marring her features. "Does he know?"

He smiled, resting his hand gently upon her shoulder. "I'm not sure, but I think this young padawan might be able to help. I'm going to take her to see the ship, it may trigger a vision."

"Please be careful Obi-wan."

He bowed his head. "As always, my lady."

• • •

The dusty streets of Mos Espa were a hive of activity. Beings of all shapes and sizes were beginning to arrive for the big pod-races. Obi-wan guided the land-speeder around an awaiting Bantha that snorted as they passed. His eyes were glued to their surroundings, constantly watching for any signs of Imperial activity.

So far so good, he hadn't spotted any troopers in the area. He pulled the vehicle to a stop outside a small hut with a canvas awning out front. Switching off the engines he sighed and turned around to face his passengers. "Come with me, but don't touch anything," he groaned, climbing out.

The group followed Obi-wan from the speeder and in through the small sandstone entrance. Trudging down the stairs they reached an open room containing a long, stone, oval-shaped reception desk. It, like every other corner of the room, was littered with filthy machine parts and dusty droid components.

A strange flapping sound approached them, and a flickering shadow appeared from the opening behind the counter. Obi-wan folded his arms and huffed.

"Greetings outlanders," the stumpy blue creature announced, "what can I ... oh, it's _you_. What do you want?"

His beady yellow eyes narrowed, almost disappearing behind his bulbous elephantine nose. Using his rat like foot, he scratched his bloated stomach, the movement of his rapidly flapping wings making it jiggle.

"Hello to you too, Watto," Obi-wan replied, lowering his hood. "I need to see the ship. That is, providing you haven't sold it on me."

He flapped closer, hovering just in front of the weary Jedi's face. "You still owe me rent, _Jedi_ ," he growled waving his clawed finger at him.

Jaina closed her eyes, feeling an overwhelming wave of déjà vu wash over her and their conversation slowly dissolved into a distant mumble. Colours swirled in her mind, gradually forming into a hazy image of the room they were standing in. A little boy in a dirty canvas tunic was sitting on the reception desk, cleaning one of the parts. His sandy blonde hair and blue eyes catching her attention.

" _Are you an Angel?" his sweet child-like voice asked._

" _What?" she replied._

 _He looked up at her, his blue eyes sparkling. "An Angel. I've heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They live on the moons of Iego, I think."_

 _She walked closer, instantly curious. "You're a funny little boy. How do you know so much?"_

 _He went back to cleaning his part. "I listen to all the traders and star pilots that come through here. I'm a pilot you know, and someday I'm gonna fly away from this place."_

" _You're a pilot?"_

" _Mm hmm, all my life."_

" _How long have you been here?"_

 _He paused for a moment, all the while continuing to rub the part with his rag. "Since I was very little, three, I think. My mum and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt, but she lost us betting on the pod races."_

" _You're a slave?"_

 _His precious face tightened, his little sandy eyebrows furrowing. "I'm a person and my name is Anakin," he retorted._

Jaina gasped and swayed in place. When she opened her eyes again, everyone was staring at her, including the strange shopkeeper. "Sorry," she apologised. "I guess I'm just not used to this heat."

Obi-wan's grey eyes locked onto the young padawan and he stroked his beard in contemplation. She'd just experienced another vision, her behaviour had said as much. Making a mental note to talk to her later about it, he returned to Watto. "You'll get your money soon enough, but for now, the ship," he stated.

The Toydarian shrugged, flapping his way toward the junkyard entrance. "Just don't you forget it," he groaned, heading out the doorway.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Obi-wan quipped, gesturing for them to follow.

Stepping out into the cluttered junkyard, the three wayward Jedi glanced around at the chaos. Ship parts were piled high either side of them, creating a sort-of haphazard walkway. Stacks of old disused engines, landing gear, fuselages and thruster housings were all dumped in groups, sorted by shipyard and sector. They huddled together, keeping their robes tight over their heads and followed the weary master and shopkeeper.

Obi-wan kept his eyes firmly planted on the Toydarian's flapping wings in front of him, battling to keep his composure. In the nine months he'd been bunkered down on the haunting sand-pit of a planet, this was only the second time he had returned to see the ship. It contained too many memories. Painful memories. Memories that even to this day, still stained his dreams. There'd be no sleeping again tonight, of that he was certain.

As the meandering path drew to an end, he chanced a glance past Watto, staring at the canvas covered vessel berthed up ahead. The sand had started to claim it, collecting in small pouches where the canvas had shifted over its wings.

"There's your ship," Watto grunted, slowly turning to face the group. "So ... how long you be leaving it 'ere anyway?"

Obi-wan stroked his beard and looked back at Ferus, Caleb and Jaina as they moved to stand beside him. He sighed. "Not for much longer, I suspect," he replied. "Something tells me I'll be needing it shortly."

"Argh," Watto growled, throwing his arms up. "No bata. Just you be making sure you be bringing my money." Muttering under his breath, he flew back down the path and left them to it.

"Is that a J-type Nubian under that drop sheet?" Caleb asked, stepping forward for a closer look.

Obi-wan sighed again, waving his hand to move the canvas, exposing the dusty chrome panels. "It was Senator Amidala's. Now come along, we have to get back to the homestead while it's still light."

Trudging up the ramp, he fought back the crippling memories of Mustafar. He could still see the amber glowing in Anakin's eyes as he struggled up the ashen embankment doused in flames. The scream that tore from his lips while he burned alive. It was a sight that would never leave him. The horrors of the clone wars and all the death and destruction they'd witnessed during the years fighting the Separatists paled in comparison.

It hurt to lose one of their own to the dark side. First with Count Dooku. But never in his wildest of dreams, did he ever envision his own padawan to become one of them. He'd failed him somehow. And in doing so, had ultimately failed his own master. _Qui-gon Jinn._ The thought sent a shiver rolling down his spine.

"So much pain lingers in this ship."

Her whispering voice broke his train of thought. For a moment he'd forgotten he had company, lost within the tides of his own misery. The young blonde was drifting aimlessly around the cargo-hold, staring into the cabin with unseeing eyes. Dragging his hand up through his hair, he turned to his companions and nodded. "You have no idea," he muttered.

Ferus leant up against the bulkhead and gazed around, his eyes finally landing on Obi-wan. "What are we doing here Master Kenobi?" he asked, folding his arms.

"Your padawan has been having visions," he replied, taking a seat on the bench in the middle of the hold. "I had hoped that by seeing this ship, she might be able to answer some of my questions."

"Questions?" Caleb asked, inspecting the craftsmanship of the interior panels. "Like what?"

Dropping his head to rest on his hand, Obi-wan huffed. Ferus and Caleb clearly weren't as clued in to Anakin's fall as Jaina, and he wasn't particularly keen on the idea of discussing it with them. Not now, possibly not ever. If he had his way, he would never speak on it to _anyone_ ever, ever again. The only exception to that being to Master Yoda or perhaps even his late Master Qui-gon; _if_ he ever managed to successfully commune with him. But at present, it seemed even the force had finally chosen to abandon him.

"I want to understand what drives someone so deep into the darkness, that they can no longer see a way out," he said, rising to his feet and leaving through the white blast door, heading for the main cabin.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Sorry about the wait. Life gets in the way sometimes. Thank you so much Selenese, Sfloresf and Guest for your reviews. I hope you all enjoy this new chapter.

As always, please read and review it's always nice to hear what people think.

MTFBWY


	17. Chapter 15: Tenebris Voluntate

**Chapter 15: Tenebris Voluntate**

Padmè felt her husband's eyes on her as she carried the tray passed him and through the double doors. She had no idea what to expect when she walked in, but the unnerving chill in the air had the tray trembling in her hands. The dish clattered from the movement and try as she might, she couldn't stop it. The sound of the doors closing made her jump, and she blinked rapidly trying to adjust to the sudden darkness.

His footsteps were heavy, thudding on the marble immediately behind her. Her ears tuned in to the laboured rasp of his breathing. She could feel him looming over her shoulders, his armoured body blocking the only way in or out.

The tray pulled from her hands, gradually lifting in the air. It floated across the room, coming to rest on a metal stool to her side. She watched it settle, then turned around to gaze up at his mask. He said nothing, lifting his head slightly and holding his hand out, gesturing into the room. Turning away, she rubbed her arms and took a nervous step forward.

The chamber was haunting. Black floors, black walls and a grey cladded ceiling. Flashing lights interrupted the darkness, some blinking rapidly others slowly clicking in and out. A subtle glow flickered from her left and she padded toward it, her eyes slowly focusing on the dual screens as she drew closer. It was a command console of some sort. She stopped at the desk and stared at the displays, a shiver rolling through every bone in her body.

On the left screen was a galaxy map, showing every sector in the Mid and Outer-rims. Scattered across the sectors were red and green glowing dots, three of which were situated on her home planet, Naboo. Amongst the dots were small groups of white letters and numbers; ship call-signs.

She glanced at the right screen and her eyes went wide, suddenly understanding what the dots must've represented. Small boxes arranged in a grid format filled the display, each with a face and name inside. She gasped and swayed in place, desperately clutching at the desk for support. Highlighted in green were the images of Obi-wan, Ferus and Caleb.

She spun around, staring up at him by the door in disbelief. "You're ... you're _hunting_ them?" she breathed.

He folded his arms and stood tall. "Yes," he replied.

"And the red ones?" she asked.

He paused briefly before responding. "Dead."

The room started spinning. His robotic voice was cold and threatening. He stepped forward, taking one large stride after the other, closing the distance. Her heart pounded as she watched him move toward her. Awkwardly, she staggered back into the console. He stopped and towered over her, hooking his hands in his belt.

"How ... how can you _do_ this?" she whispered, unable to disguise the terror in her voice.

He didn't answer, instead, lifting his gloved hand to trace the side of her jaw.

She turned away, needing to escape his close proximity. Stumbling from the console, she retreated to the corner of his chamber, stopping at a messy workbench. Alloy plating, screws, tools and brackets littered the counter. On the floor beside it sat an old supply crate. The flickering lights glittered off its contents and she squinted her eyes to focus.

"Are these what I think they are?" she choked, wiping her eyes.

"Souvenirs," he growled in response, once again walking toward her.

Dropping to the ground, she knelt alongside the crate and lifted the metallic cylinders out, inspecting them one by one. Her heart shattered, the tears coming in waves.

"I can't believe you could do this Anakin," she sobbed, rummaging through the lightsabers. She grabbed one firmly, her fingers dancing dangerously over the ignition switch and turned her sodden eyes toward him.

"What _happened_ to you?"

He stopped in front of her, feeling her mixed emotions spiralling through the force. He could literally taste her fear, feel her anger and sense her _heartbreak_. Using the force, he extracted the hilt from her grip and lowered it back into the crate with the others.

"You _still_ want to know, what happened to me?" he growled, holding his hand out to help her.

Hand shaking, she took his and allowed him to assist her to her feet.

"Yes, I want you to tell me everything," she whispered, keeping her eyes locked onto his lenses. "Help me understand."

Vader pulled her to her feet and led her to his new hyperbaric chamber, opening the door and gently ushering her inside. He closed the door and activated the airlock, the sudden rush of oxygen flooding all around them. He stared at his wife, watching as she nervously rubbed her arms in his presence. If he wasn't so deep in the darkness, he might've felt guilty, possibly even disgusted at himself. But as it was now, he was too angry to feel anything but pain.

Lifting the helmet up, he listened to the vacuum release, the hiss almost deafening him. He dropped it on the recliner and moved to the mask, undoing the clasps at the collar and gently prying it from his face. He dragged in a stunted breath, feeling the cool air rush down his throat. Placing the mask next to his helmet, he stared at the floor, refusing to meet his wife's eyes.

"Were you burned?" Padmè gasped, reaching out to touch his face. His hair was all gone and the skin on his scalp was horrifically scarred. The most familiar scar still prominent, trailing down his cheek below his right eye.

He lifted his gaze from the floor, his smouldering amber eyes staring through her.

"Yes," he rasped. " _Kenobi_ left me ... after taking my legs ... to burn alive on Mustafar."

"Why?" she asked.

He cocked his hairless brow and held her gaze. Lifting his hand, he jabbed his gloved finger at her. "Because _you_ ... didn't listen to me."

"I came looking for you, hoping to bring you home. I was scared Anakin!"

He grabbed her and turned her around, ashamed of his appearance. Pulling her back against him, he slowly caressed her shoulders, his fingers toying with the straps of her nightdress. Taking another stunted breath, he closed his eyes, momentarily losing himself in her presence.

"I told you to wait for me," he stated, gently running his hands down her arms.

Padmè stared at their reflection in the duraglass, seeing the softened expression on his face. "He was going to kill you Anakin. I had to do something," she whispered.

"He wouldn't have found me ... if you had just listened for once."

Removing his glove, he hooked it to his belt and started to run his flesh hand along her shoulder. Her skin was just as soft as he remembered, like velvet beneath his fingers. Lowering his head, he begun placing feather soft kisses from her earlobe and down her neck. He could still remember how much she liked it. In the past, whenever he kissed her this way, she'd always gone to mush in his arms.

Her closeness was causing something to stir deep inside. Something he wasn't sure he could control in his current frame of mind. A strangled groan escaped his lips as he felt her shiver beneath his touch.

"Now it's _my_ turn ... Padmè," he growled lowly into her ear, pushing the strap from her shoulders.

"What?" she whispered distantly.

He took a raspy breath and stared, his hand slowly dropping to caress her naked breast beneath the silken blue nightgown. " _Where_ were they taking you?" he asked.

She choked and stared at his terrifying reflection. His irises were on fire, piercing the very depths of her soul. "What did you say?" she asked, trying desperately not to cry.

His features suddenly hardened, his hairless brow creasing heavily, casting a looming shadow over his eyes. "The Jedi, Padmè," he repeated, pulling her against him. " _Tell_ me where they were taking you."

She cried, trying to pull out of his grip, horrified by his behaviour. "Let me go Anakin," she whispered.

"I thought you said you _loved_ me, Padmè."

She burst into tears, struggling against him. "I ... I do love you," she whimpered.

He bent his head down, so his lips were right beside her ear. The warmth of his breath on the nape of her neck, making every hair stand on end. Tightening his grip, he whispered: " _Liar_."

"W-why are you being like this?" she stammered, blinking through the tears and staring into his flaming eyes in their reflection. Her heart was pounding, he could feel it pulsing beneath his grasp. The waves of terror only serving to anger him further.

"This is who I _am_ , Padmè. Who I was _destined_ to be."

Spinning her around, he held her upper arms and stared into her eyes, watching intently as the tears spilled down her glistening cheeks. He pushed her back against the duraglass, pressing his armoured body into her.

"Look at me, Padmè," he growled, his face hovering just before hers. "Take a good _look_. Do you _still_ insist that you love me?"

Her body was trembling, the tremors vibrating through every inch of his suit. He was waiting for her to give in, to finally speak the words he almost wanted to hear. To free him of the pain and anger of her lies.

Her sparkling hazel eyes stared up at him, threatening to dissolve his fury. "Yes, Anakin. Please, I still love you. Why won't you believe me?"

Still she insisted. _How_ could she still love him like this. Was she blind? He was but a shadow of his former self. The once rugged and sleek young Jedi, now decrepit and deformed, crippled by pain and consumed by rage. Pulling his face back slightly, he dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Prove it," he snarled.

She gasped. "What?"

He took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes to control himself. "I said ... _prove it._ Tell me where the Jedi are. _Tell_ _me_ where they were going."

He felt something surge through her. A torrent of emotion that suddenly shot forth, barrelling through the force like a shockwave.

"WHY?" she screamed. "So you can hunt them down and slaughter them? Like you did those innocent younglings in the temple?"

She had to bring that up didn't she. There was no way she would understand why he did what he did that night. How he'd saved them from the life he'd had. From the constant hypocrisy and closed-mindedness of that defunct institution.

He paused and looked up from the corners of his eyes, seeing her strength slowly rising to the surface. She was standing up to him. The fiery spark he cherished and admired so much was finally reigniting.

"Yes," he said.

"No Anakin. I won't tell you. I'm not going to help you _condemn_ yourself. You want them? Yougo and find them."

Her anger was intoxicating. Like he'd just been shot in the heart with a dose of pure adrenaline. Stoking the already raging inferno surging through his veins. In one sudden, swift movement, he lunged forward, wrapping his hands around her cheeks. Crushing his lips onto hers, he pressed her head hard against the wall. She struggled, pushing on his chest and trying to shove him back, but that only intensified his desire. She was his. She belonged to him.

Her crying and struggling hit a nerve, causing something to violently snap inside his mind. It broke his concentration. Without a second thought, he wrenched his hands away in disgust and staggered back, scrunching up his face in frustration.

She stayed with her back against the glass wall and stared at him in disbelief, too shocked to move.

"I don't know who you are anymore," she sobbed, wrapping her arms tight around her body. "Anakin, you're ... you're scaring me. Please, tell me what's going on. What's gotten into you?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he snarled: "Just get out Padmè. Go. Leave me."

Tears streaming down her face, she bolted passed him and pounded on the door trying to escape. Her hands slipping and skidding on the glossy surface. "I ... I can't, you must have locked it."

He waved his hand and willed the door open. With a thundering crash, he collapsed to his knees, clutching at his head in despair.

She glanced back to see him kneeling on the floor, his black cloak spilling out over the ground around him. Shaking her head, she turned and fled the chamber.

• • •

The Emperor sat in his throne room, thoroughly enjoying the show. He cackled, tapping his fingers together, staring at the holo-screen.

"Now she understands you, my apprentice. And now _you_ understand _yourself_."

He snickered, switching off the screen and spinning around to face the window. Everything was playing out precisely as he had intended. He was slightly disappointed that Vader had managed to control himself at the last second, but it was early days. Soon he would have what he wanted. Soon this new plan would pay off. He just needed to be patient.

And then he would finally take care of her. The way he should have in the very beginning. Only _this_ time, where she was going, there'd be no coming back.

He would see to it _personally._

His maniacal laugh filled the throne room, echoing all around him.

• • •

" _He looks just like you Ani," Padmè said, smiling as he cradled his son and gently rocked him to sleep._

 _He smiled. "They are amazing Angel. I can't believe this is actually real," he whispered, the sheer depth of the love he felt for his family almost knocking him from his feet._

 _The subtle evening breeze agitated the ivory net curtains, making the moonlight twinkle across the twin cots beside the window. He bent over and lowered his son into the cot, carefully pulling the blankets up._

" _Goodnight my son, may the force be with you," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss upon his tiny forehead._

 _He swapped sides with Padmè, leaning down to wish goodnight to his daughter. Tucking his unruly hair behind his ear, he kissed her forehead._

" _Goodnight my princess, may the force be with you."_

 _Goodnight duties finished, they moved to the door and pulled it closed behind them._

 _He draped his arm around her shoulder as they walked down the darkened hallway to their bedroom. Once inside he pulled his robe off, turning to drape it over his recliner._

" _I'm so glad I came with you Padmè. I couldn't imagine life without you and the twins," he said, dropping onto the foot of the bed and tugging off his boots._

" _I am too Ani. I know life isn't perfect, but as long as we stick together, we can make it work," she replied, lifting her tunic up over her head._

 _His eyes drifted to her as she undressed, the sensuous curves of her breasts and buttocks chasing away all rational thought. Rising to his feet, he crossed the room, dropping his tunic to the floor as he moved. Wrapping his arms around her bare waist, he pulled her close, inhaling the sweet perfume of her chestnut hair._

" _I love you Angel," he whispered, kissing the side of her neck._

" _I love you too, Anakin," she replied._

 _Continuing to relieve each other of their undergarments, they crawled into bed and pulled the covers up. Then the lights went out._

Vader lurched up from the sofa, staring blindly at the surrounding duraglass walls of his hyperbaric chamber. Something had startled him awake, like a lightsaber to the chest. He rubbed his eyes to clear the sleep induced fog that hindered his vision. Dragging his hand over his scalp, he scanned his chamber. Nothing was out of place.

" _ANAKIN NO!"_

 _Padmè_. He jumped to his feet and charged for the doors. Something was wrong. That scream sounded like she was terrified and calling out to him. His mind was racing, suddenly worried that his master had decided to pay her a visit. Pushing his cybernetic legs as fast as he could, he barged through the double doors and thundered toward his bedroom.

He skidded to a halt by the end of the bed.

She was having a nightmare. The sheets were a mess, bundled up around her ankles. Her blue nightdress was wrapped and twisted around her hips, exposing her underwear. He coughed into his hand and heaved in a breath, slowly moving around the bed to sit down beside her.

"It's alright Angel ... it's only a dream," he whispered, reaching out to brush the damp brown curls away from her face.

"Anakin," she breathed, still fast asleep.

"I'm here Padmè. No-one can hurt you."

His head grew heavy. In the panic to reach her, he'd forgotten his mask. He coughed again and gasped for air, trying to force his lungs to work.

Her eyes drifted open, gazing up at him in a daze. "Please, stay with me. I don't want to be alone," she mumbled.

"I'll stay ... if that's what you want," he rasped, wrapping his flesh and blood fingers around hers.

He crawled onto the bed beside her and pushed two of the pillows under his head, trying his best to avoid the collar of his suit. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but for her, he would endure it.

She stared at him intently, blinking her eyes twice. "Ani," she gasped. "Your eyes ..."

He cocked his brow. "What about them Padmè?" he asked.

"They're ... they're _blue,_ " she whispered, lifting her hand to caress his scar.

"Yes, I expected as such," he replied, taking her hand from his cheek and holding it tight. "Now turn around," he whispered, dragging in another shaky breath, "and go back to sleep."

She rolled over, wriggling her body around until her back was pressed up against him. He draped his arm over her waist and allowed his eyes to gradually drop closed. Moments later he passed out.

• • •

Padmè awoke with a start. She could feel his body still laying behind her. She felt his fingers gently twitch on her belly and his chest jump. Rolling over, she turned and stared at his face on the pillow.

His eyes were closed. "Anakin," she whispered, gently nudging his arm. "Ani, wake up."

He didn't respond. She pressed her ear up against his face, trying to listen for any signs of movement.

His fingers twitched again along with his chest and she started to panic. Grabbing his shoulders, she rolled him onto his back and shook him. "Anakin! Anakin, wake up!" she demanded.

Nothing. Not even an eye movement.

He wasn't breathing. She looked around trying to find something she could use to help him. Spotting the oxygen mask hanging over the bed, she pulled it from the holder and attached it to his face.

It wasn't doing anything. There was no sound, no rushing of air, nothing. She searched the medical monitor for some controls or buttons. The only ones she could find were two small lights, one blue, one yellow and one big round red button. "Please be an alarm or something," she sobbed, hitting it with the base of her palm.

The clear pipes and hoses suddenly went tight as the oxygen rushed through them and into the mask. She watched on in agony, praying to Shiraya that he would wake up. "Anakin, please stay with me," she pleaded, dropping her head down onto his shoulder.

A commotion sounded from outside of the bedroom. Thumping footsteps and women's voices chattering wildly echoed from the foyer. She shot up, holding his hand tight, staring wide-eyed at the open bedroom door.

The two doctors from the theatre came bounding in, carrying an array of different medical equipment. They stopped in the door, staring at her in shock.

"What happened?" Celeste demanded, straightening her glasses.

"Where is his mask?" Aleria asked, a hint of worry tainting her tone.

"I was having a nightmare and he came in to see me. I guess he's left it back in his chamber. When I woke up he was like this. I don't know what to do!" she wailed.

Celeste turned to Aleria and nodded, bending down to pick up her bag. She carried it over to the chair closest to him and set it down, pulling out her gear.

"Has he tried to wake up at all?" Celeste asked, setting her tools up on the bedside table.

"I'm not sure, his chest and fingers have twitched several times but he still isn't breathing," Padmè answered, moving away so the redheaded doctor could reach the monitor on the wall.

The air in the room suddenly felt cold as ice. A black hooded figure emerged in the doorway, his robe dragging on the floor at his feet. "How is he?" he snapped, slithering closer.

The two doctors quickly glanced up at him before returning to their patient.

"He appears to be in stasis, my lord," Celeste replied, connecting two thick cables to a power cell. "His chest implant is drained, my guess is, it's been trying to resus him for a while."

"Hook him up and bring him back," he sneered, holding his withered hand out. "Padmè, my dear, come stand with me. The good doctors need space to work."

The former Senator nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. She walked over and stood beside him, watching the doctors move around the bed. The brunette opened the control panel on his chest and connected the two cables to it. The redhead pushed the sleeve up around his flesh arm and inserted a large needle into his skin.

Still he didn't move.

"What are they doing to him?" Padmè asked, trying her hardest not to lose it in front of the Emperor.

"Nothing he can't handle, my dear. They're preparing to shock him from stasis. You may want to step back," he sneered, resting his claw-like fingers upon her shoulder.

Celeste held onto the remote and stared up at Aleria. "You ready?" she asked.

"On three, Celeste," she said, her thumb firmly planted on the Bantha-sized syringe plunger. She counted down: "One ... two ... three." Depressing the needle, she administered the shot, quickly withdrawing it and taking three hurried steps back. "Adrenaline is in," she announced.

The power cell hummed, sending a course of electricity straight into his chest.

Vader's torso lurched off the bed, his back arching violently before thumping back down. Blue eyes suddenly shot open and he gasped, lunging forward. Clenching his fists, his hazy eyes darted erratically around the room. His heart pounded furiously, throbbing painfully against the confines of his ribcage. He was surrounded, and as usual his master was present to witness his moment of weakness. How could he have been so careless?

As the bed started to shake from his inability to control his emotions, he thrust both hands into the air and launched the two doctors across the room. He tried to speak, but his throat was on fire, dry and burning from the oxygen rich air and adrenaline pumping through his veins. His face felt hot, his skin tight and sweaty. Locking eyes with Padmè, he tried to reign in his temper. He didn't want her to see him like this. He'd already scared her enough for one day, and he had no desire to frighten her anymore.

Sidious turned to the two doctors. "Celeste, Aleria, leave us," he sneered, gently ushering Padmè forward.

"Yes my lord," they chorused, quickly packing their bags and leaving the room.

Vader repeatedly clenched and released his hands in an effort to calm himself. Thanks to the adrenaline, he wanted to pace, but knew that he couldn't. Not while he was connected to the life support system. More than anything, he wanted to be left alone with Padmè. He wanted to talk with her, to assess how much damage he'd done in the chamber earlier. But with his master in the room, he'd have to be mindful of his feelings. He couldn't show weakness. Not in front of him. It was too risky.

"Now that you're recovering from your little _mishap_ , my apprentice, I will take my leave," Sidious purred, watching as his wife ran over to him.

Vader nodded. "Thank you, my master."

"Report to me first thing tomorrow. There are some important matters which we must discuss."

"Yes master," he replied, watching him slither out of his bed chamber. Once he was gone, he returned his attention to his wife.

She stood in front of him, holding her hands nervously at her stomach. Her fear was still present, except now he sensed, it was diffused by her concern for him. Vader sighed. He disconnected the power cables from his control panel and secured it, dropping them to the ground. Taking a deep breath, he stared into her sodden red eyes and patted the mattress beside him.

"Sit down Padmè. We need to talk."

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Just Vaderdala in this chapter, back to the Jedi next. Hope you're all enjoying it.

Warm welcome to: KidC879, Lana and LittleMelly.

Thank you so much for your reviews, they brought warm feelings to my heart.

For those of you waiting for another chapter on my other story, it is in progress. I had initially intended on ending it there, but going by the amount of requests I've had, I've decided to add one last chapter, which will be the epilogue to its sequel.

Stay tuned, the next chapter should be up by Saturday.

MTFBWY.


	18. Chapter 16: Umbra Ludos

**Chapter 16: Umbra Ludos**

 _TATOOINE: JUNDLAND WASTES_

Obi-wan pulled the speeder up outside his residence. The twin suns had already begun their descent, their crimson and tangerine rays tinting the scattered strip clouds a dusky pink. The rolling, never-ending, barren sand-dunes almost glittered along the lifeless Wasteland horizon, stretching out far and wide, until they disappeared completely into the salmon skyline. Nestled amongst that isolated and oppressing tundra sat a small sun-bleached, synstone hovel. Small enough to appear unimportant, yet big enough to contain his non-wavering guilt and remorse. His uncomforting abode. His cave. His place of solitude.

He glanced at his wrist chrono. The hour was late. Owen would've returned to the homestead by now. He couldn't take them back there, not with how unreasonable the young Lars had recently become. Sure, his concerns were well-founded and yes, he was only looking out for his family.

But so too was _he_.

So, he'd defended their homestead from an impending tribe of primitive Tusken Raiders - even killing a few - and bargained with the local traders loyal to the Hutts for their unquestioning support and vaporator parts; including the junk dealer and former Toydarian slave-master, Watto. But it was all in their best interests. His way of ensuring the infant Skywalker's safety. That was _his_ duty. His mission - his reparation.

Only now, his mandate was changing. His destiny's course shifting like the ever-moving sands of the Jundland Wastes themselves. Fate had thrust these three Jedi into his path, ushering him back into the soul-crushing presence of the very darkness he was desperately trying to stay hidden away from. The force, it would seem, was not without a sense of irony.

He sighed, exiting the driver's seat and slowly turning to face the other three Jedi. "You will stay here tonight," he muttered, waiting to the side for them to exit. "I'm afraid, I don't have much to offer. I wasn't expecting company."

"Thank you, Master Kenobi," Ferus answered, helping Jaina from her seat. "But we do not wish to intrude."

Obi-wan stroked his beard and offered the younger Jedi a slight nod. "Yes, well be that as it may, you need shelter for the night. The sand-people will be out shortly, and let's just say, they're _not_ particularly friendly."

Retrieving their belongings, Ferus, Caleb and Jaina followed the downtrodden Master into the modest dwelling, dipping their heads to avoid the low threshold. Soft yellow lamps flickered into life, gently illuminating the darkened residence. The main room was small and cramped, containing just the bare necessities. Its dusty, grey walls resembling that of an unwelcoming cave, coarse and rough as if carved directly from the cliff-face. To the side sat a small table, cluttered with ancient Jedi paraphernalia, some familiar to them, others, not so much.

Ferus nearly tripped over the dusty storage chest in front of him, no higher than the curve of his knee and his eyes drifted to Obi-wan. He was removing his robe and laying it over the singular dining chair perched behind a squat round table.

"Are you sure you have room for us, Master Kenobi?" he asked, his gaze scanning the modest living area, trying to work out where they would all sleep. "We can head back into town and find somewhere else to spend the night."

"No, no. It's quite alright. There's enough room in the cellar. I know it isn't much, but it's safe and cool, which is all you require for the time being." He wandered over to an old potbelly-style stove, placing a camp kettle on top and alighting the main burner. Turning away, he headed for the back room, opening a cupboard and returning to the table, placing an assortment of different foodstuffs down. "I'll get some food on, then prepare your sleeping arrangements. Feel free to sit where you can, we've had a busy day."

• • •

Pillows and blankets set up in the cellar, Obi-wan dusted his hands off and trudged up the stairs to join his new house-guests in the main living quarters. Reaching the top, he glanced around the corner, seeing both Ferus and Caleb deep in conversation. The young blonde, Jaina, however was sitting on his bed, _still_ silent. She hadn't spoken a word since they'd left the junkyard, choosing to keep her own counsel, quietly biding her time in the back seat of the speeder, possibly still attempting to comprehend all the force was intent on showing her.

A lump rose in his throat. He didn't blame her for going silent, _force_ , after nine months of solitude, he still couldn't make sense of it all. And he had been there. Every night he was reminded, and every morning, it would take him a while to come to terms with it - all over again. It never got any easier. The images never fading, still as vibrant as ever.

 _I wish I knew what to do, Qui-gon. She is as troubled as_ he _was, and honestly, it's terrifying me. What if my failure to help her, pushes her down into the depths as it did_ him _? Why has the force sent her to_ me _? Has it forgotten that everything I touch, everything I am near, is followed by trouble? I can't protect her, Qui-gon. Anymore than I could protect Anakin._

As usual the force was silent, not answering his unspoken plea. He was alone.

Dragging his hand through his hair, he sighed, gently blinking away the solitary tear threatening to escape, and went to join them. "Are we ready to eat?" he croaked, clearing his throat and wiping his face. "It should be ready by now."

Ferus and Caleb turned toward him and nodded in affirmation.

"We don't mean to cause you trouble Obi-wan. We have rations in our packs, they will suffice," Ferus offered, not wanting to overstay his welcome.

"That won't be necessary, Ferus. Save your rations for another day, you may yet need them."

They all sat down in his small sitting area, cradling their bowls on their laps and watching the holonet as they ate. It was the same Pro-Empire drivel as always, broadcasting another of their _glorious_ accomplishments, about how they had just managed to crush the hopes and dreams of another innocent civilization somewhere in the core worlds. Labelling them as dissenters and troublemakers intent on disturbing the "peace". It made him sick to the stomach. Even more so now, with the knowledge that Anakin was somehow still alive and aiding this abomination.

What made matters worse, was that deep down, he _still_ missed him. And he was beginning to doubt that would ever change. His brother's absence had left a gaping void in his heart, forever lingering, keeping him firmly planted in his misery. Always questioning.

 _Always_.

"Well ..." Ferus said, rising from his seat, "I think I've had just about enough _holonet_ for one night. I might turn-in."

Obi-wan lifted his grey eyes to the young Jedi and nodded.

"I thank you for the meal, and your hospitality Obi-wan."

"No need to thank me Ferus, we have to look out for one another. It is the _Jedi way_ after all."

Caleb also rose to his feet. Holding his bowl tight, he followed his master into the kitchen and placed it down on the bench. He briefly returned to the sitting room, thanking the weary master for his hospitality and offering a respectful bow before disappearing down the stairs.

Obi-wan yawned, slowly rising from his chair and holding his hand out to Jaina to take her empty bowl. She smiled up at him, but it never breached her eyes. He could see sadness and confusion buried within those two glistening blue orbs, and it bothered him. He took a deep breath and gathered himself.

"Jaina, why don't you go settle in for the night? I've got this," he said softly.

He wanted space. He needed it. So much had transpired in these last few days and he still hadn't processed the vast majority of it.

She sighed, her gaze going distant. "I would, but ..."

"But?"

"Do you think we could sit together and talk? Just the two of us?" she asked, nervously twirling a thread of her robe around her fingers. "I mean, you have questions and well, so do I ... I just ... I guess, I was quietly hoping you would be able to help me understand what the force is trying to tell me."

"Oh," he whispered, looking to the floor. "Well, I'm not sure that -"

"Master Kenobi, _please,_ " she pleaded. "I can't talk to Master Olin about this. Not only does he not understand what I am seeing ... but his _personal differences_ with Master Skywalker cloud his judgement. He can't talk about him without throwing in a snide remark. They obviously had some sort of troubled history together."

He took another deep breath, focusing on the exhale, trying to release his growing anguish on the subject. Walking to the kitchen he muttered beneath his breath. "Where Anakin is concerned, _all_ history is troubled."

Placing the bowls down on the bench, he opened the sonic dishwasher and loaded them inside. Closing the door, he braced both hands against the counter and huffed. She needed his help ... and truthfully, he needed hers too. There was no more avoiding this, no burying his head in the sand and pretending that he was alright. He wasn't.

Turning around, he folded his arms and leant back on the counter, already regretting the impending trip down memory lane. No amount of mental preparation was going to help him with this. The wound was still far too raw.

"All right, young one. I will ... do my best," he sighed, trudging toward her with his head hung low.

He knew one thing for certain.

 _This_ ... was going to hurt.

The two of them sat side by side on his bed, going over her visions from Watto's. How Padmè and Anakin had first met, through to his very first trip on her Capitol Star Cruiser. Every word she said was like a dagger to his heart, slowly slicing away at his wavering composure – piece by piece. Somewhere in the grimy haze of war and deceit, he'd lost this young boy. He'd failed him. Failed to protect him.

"You know, I saw their wedding at Naboo, as if I was there," she whispered, staring at her hands knotted upon her lap. "They both looked so happy together."

He looked up at her from the corner of his eyes. "Their _wedding_?" he asked.

She stared up at him and nodded, keeping her lips tight.

He leant forward onto his elbows and covered his face with his hands, his auburn fringe draping over the tips of his fingers. "Naboo ..." he groaned, beneath his breath. "I knew they had _feelings_ for each other ... but _married_?"

"I'm ... I'm sorry, Master Kenobi. I thought you would've known."

"No," he breathed. "No, I ... I had no idea."

Rising to his feet, Obi-wan started to pace the small room, shaking his head in disbelief. He lifted his gaze suddenly and stared blankly at the wall. "How old would you say he was?"

Jaina's face went tight, as she tried to recollect the vision. The memory was hazy at best. "It's difficult to say. Maybe ... in his late teens I would guess." She turned to stare at him. "He still had his padawan braid if that helps."

"Oh my." Suddenly it was if the very ground he was standing on was trying to open up and swallow him, his knees buckling violently under his weight. He leant forward, bracing himself against the wall. The room was spinning.

That meant this had been going on under his nose for years. Sure, he'd suspected that something was going on between the two of them, playing ignorant in the hope that in time, it would all blow over. That it was just some innocent crush soon to be forgotten. How wrong he was.

"Did you get anything when we were on the ship?" he whispered.

The young padawan shook her head. "Nothing really. Just brief flashes of you and Padmè, and the echoes of pain and heartbreak. Why do you ask?"

He moved to the stove and turned on the kettle. "I still don't understand what made him do it. I was hoping you might've seen something. Perhaps it was foolish of me to wish for such."

"To be honest Master Kenobi, the visions aren't as frequent as you might believe. They are, more often than not, triggered by something or somewhere. I wish I could tell you more."

He stared out into the air blankly.

 _How could I have missed this? Anakin, why did you never tell me? You could've trusted me, kriff, I kept your_ suspected _affair with Padmè a secret for who knows how long._

The kettle whistled, dragging him from his thoughts. Moving to the cupboard, he pulled out a cup and some herbal tea. "Care for a drink, Jaina?" he asked, glancing over his slumped shoulder.

"A tea would be lovely, thank you Master."

"Right. Tea. Oh and Jaina, you can drop the Master, just Obi-wan will do fine. I don't much care for the term _master_ anymore, as I am sure you can understand."

"Yes master ... I mean, Obi-wan."

He continued with the task of preparing their tea, still struggling to comprehend what she'd told him. Pouring in the water, he took a deep breath, pushing his anguish out into the force.

"What if you had ... something to _touch_?" he asked distantly, picking up both cups and plodding toward her.

He took another deep breath and stared at the chest by the door. "Something of _his_?"

Jaina's eyes locked onto him as she took one of the cups from his outstretched hand, a curious expression drifting over her face. "I'm not entirely sure. Maybe. Why? Do you have something in mind? Something that belonged to Anakin?"

"You _could_ say that."

He placed his cup down on the small synstone table by his bed and headed over to the chest. Kneeling down beside it, he slowly lifted the lid, the creaks and groans of the hinges doing nothing to assuage his anxiety.

Inside, cradled between the different odds and ends he'd managed to retrieve from the temple, wrapped in a heavy, woven black robe was the object he found himself cradling every night. When the darkness fell over the distant sand-dunes and the cries of the Tusken Raiders drifted on the hot desert winds, he would hold it gently in his hands, asking himself how and why everything went wrong. What he could've done differently to help him.

Carrying the robe covered object back over to his bed, he paused before Jaina, fighting back the onslaught of tears that always followed his removing it from the chest.

"What is that?" Jaina asked, staring up at him.

He took several measured breaths, trying once more to compose himself. Sitting down beside her, he cautiously started to unfold Anakin's black robe, gradually dropping the folds of fabric onto his lap. He could still see the fire in his eyes, the raw waves of rage that radiated through the force as he shrugged out of his Jedi garment and discarded it onto the landing pad at Mustafar. His throat constricted at the memory.

"It is ... Anakin's _lightsaber_ ," he croaked, releasing the final fold of fabric to reveal the shiny alloy cylinder. "I took it when we ... when I ..."

"You don't need to finish that sentence, Obi-wan," Jaina whispered, feeling his pain stabbing through the force. "May I?" she asked holding her hand out to take it.

He looked up at her, his stormy grey eyes filling with tears. Jaina's heart broke. This exalted Jedi was haunted. The once famous 'Negotiator' suddenly at a loss for words while he wrestled with his inner demons. The lightsaber trembled in his hand as he offered it to her, his eyes not once leaving the metallic hilt.

The moment her fingers wrapped around it, she was slammed. Her eyes popping wide open and blindly staring at the blank wall before them. The force screamed at her, crushing her windpipe and stealing the very beat of her heart from her chest.

Wave after wave after wave of terror and fear and pain and anger crashed over her, like she was stuck in a riptide, the torrenting waters yanking her one way before violently pulling her under. She was drowning. Tears streamed from her unblinking eyes and flowed down her cheeks.

She saw and felt _everything_. The death of her mother. The slaughter of the sand-people. The battle at Geonosis. Their wedding. The look of distrust from the council members. The constant hidden threats and innuendos from Mace Windu.

The visions were relentless and agonizing, ripping her to pieces, memory by memory. She staggered to her feet, turning around and around on the floor by the bed. Her eyes never blinking, yet also never seeing.

Through all the haze and the trauma, three constants became apparent. Padmè, Obi-wan and Chancellor Palpatine. The love and loyalty she felt toward these three people was almost borderline obsessive. Willing to give her very life if it meant keeping them from harm.

Then came the nightmares. Padmè was going to die giving birth to _her_ children. She couldn't lose her. She _wouldn't_ allow it. At that moment, the darkness descended and she swore she was falling down a deep, never-ending pit of despair. She couldn't sleep out of fear, couldn't eat from anxiety. Each day slowly melting into one haunting, traumatic and agonizing nightmare. She didn't know how she got from one place to the next. The haze had taken over, blurring everything and everyone.

A light appeared in the darkness, a glimmer of hope twinkling in the distance. A story. A myth. A tragedy he'd said. But there was always a hidden truth behind every legend. Darth Plageuis. An ancient Sith that had discovered the ability to save people from death. That was her answer.

The tunnel vision started. The walls around slowly creeping closer, moving in for the kill. But she couldn't see them. Couldn't stop them from closing. Then came the betrayal. They'd sent Obi-wan of all people to deliver their insidious plan. She was to spy on the one person who had been like a father to her. The only one who'd supported and praised her where all others scolded. It burned hotter than the twin suns of Tatooine.

She was appointed as the Chancellor's representative on the inglorious Jedi Council, a position that in the time leading up to this moment would have filled her with gratitude, but now only complicated things. Because she was refused Mastery. Denying her of the access she so desperately needed to save her one and only true love. Her reason for breathing each and every day.

To make matters worse, in their _collective wisdom_ , the council decided to separate her from her master. Wrenching Obi-wan away when she needed him most. Sending him to the other side of the galaxy, quite possibly to his death.

The tunnel got darker. The light flickering in the distance.

Now only two remained. Padmè and the Chancellor. She meditated between running from one meeting to the next, never sleeping and never eating, gradually slipping deeper into the pit with every lie that left her lips. Drowning. Falling. Crumbling.

Nothing could stop that now. Soon her body would eventually find the ground and she wasn't sure, that once she hit it, whether she'd be able to get back up. But still, the mission. And save Padmè.

Meditation. Think inwards. Focus on self.

Padmè.

Passion. Power. Life.

Padmè.

She found herself standing before the Chancellor, listening to his praise and soft, comforting voice once more. The tunnel still getting ever-darker, the light slowly fading into what resembled a dying star. His words trailed off, mingling into the distance, amalgamating with the throbbing pulse of her heart. He was the Sith Lord. Her mentor, her friend, the last person she thought would ever betray her, had suddenly done just that.

The tunnel closed over.

The light disappeared.

And she was left drowning.

Standing alone.

Alone in complete and utter darkness.

"Join me, Anakin. Become my apprentice." She heard him say through the static of her mind. "Learn to use the power of the dark side. The power to save Padmè."

Jaina tripped over her feet, mid-spin, and collapsed to the floor. Obi-wan lunged for her, catching her head before she hit the table. His heart was pounding. He had no idea what she'd just seen, but whatever the force had shown her was clearly very powerful and _very_ traumatic _._

He sat on his knees, cradling the young padawan in his lap, gently caressing her blonde hair away from her face. "Jaina," he whispered. "Jaina, can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Her eyelids slowly flickered. Her expression going tight. Hands securely wrapped around the lightsaber hilt, so tight her knuckles had gone white, she responded, her eyes suddenly popping open.

Only they weren't her eyes.

Not the troubled, innocent crystal blue eyes of the young blonde padawan he'd just met.

No.

These eyes were _his_.

The flaming amber eyes of a Sith.

"No ... not ... not _you_ too," he gasped, his fingers trembling around the knotted locks of her soft, blonde hair in his lap.

"Obi-wan," she whispered, her voice but a heady breath. Carrying a distinct undertone of anger and despair.

She closed her eyes and screamed at the very top of her lungs. "I HATE YOU!"

Seconds later, her body went limp, her fingers relaxed and the lightsaber slipped from her grip, clinking as it casually rolled across the stone floor.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

I hope you enjoy this last chapter, I know we want to go back to Vader and Padmè, so next chapter that's where we're heading.

Thank you to Scaaaaar, Guest and Lana for your reviews. I am so glad you're enjoying it. I apologised for the delay, it suffered a few rewrites and I finally decided to cut it there.

Please enjoy and review, I love reading them and they inspire me to keep writing beyond measure.

MTFBWY.


	19. Chapter 17: Fractum

**Chapter 18: Fractum**

The breathing mask hushed in and out, echoing in the pregnant silence. Padmè sat down on the bed beside him, her hands fumbling in her lap. Vader took a deep breath, trying to steady his throbbing chest. It ached. His head ached. Everything ached. There were even phantom pains drifting up through his cybernetic legs.

"Does it hurt?" Padmè asked, staring up at him.

"Does _what_ hurt?" he groaned, tugging his sleeve down over his arm.

"I'm not sure. All of it, I guess."

He closed his eyes and paused, focusing on the steady stream of cool oxygen flowing down into his lungs. "Yes, Padmè. It hurts. _All_ of it. _All_ of the time."

"Can't they do anything for you?"

He gently shook his head, being careful not to dislodge the breathing mask. "No."

His heart rate was finally easing, the urge to pace around the room slowly fading with it. Her soothing presence was both helping and _hindering_. The longer he sat next to her like this, the calmer he felt ... and it bothered him. Not because he wanted to be angry and uptight all of the time, but because his negative emotions fuelled his connection to the dark side; the connection that helped him deal with the constant pain.

"I find it hard to believe that there's nothing they can do for you Anakin. Palpatine has the entire galaxy at his disposal, including Kamino, and they can clone people."

He clenched his fists. He didn't want to talk about this. This wasn't what he asked her to sit down for. He especially didn't want to talk about this particular topic, mostly because, it was the very same thing he found _himself_ asking day in, day out.

"Don't, Padmè," he growled.

She was still staring at him. He couldn't look at her; didn't want her to see the lingering doubt hidden in his eyes.

"Why not? I mean, if he _truly_ cared about your wellbeing, wouldn't he be trying to find some way of healing you?"

He suddenly missed his mask. At least that offered him some emotional anonymity. "I don't want to talk about it."

She went quiet for a moment. Of course, _he_ knew why his master would never heal him. But that didn't mean he wanted to discuss it. Palpatine kept him this way for one reason, and one reason alone, so he could control him. He, like the Jedi, feared his power. Feared what he would become – what he would've become – if it weren't for Kenobi.

Now he was no different from his troopers. Enslaved to the Empire – servant to his master. It was his destiny, his _curse._ And he could either embrace it with every remaining fibre in his body ... or be destroyed by it.

And he'd already made _that_ decision, months ago.

Padmè stood up from the bed and folded her arms. "So where do I fit in with all of this?" she asked, keeping her back to him.

" _You_ have a choice to make," he growled.

She spun to face him, her eyes fierce. "A choice? What choice?"

"You can either stand beside me as my wife and support my decision or ..."

"Or _what_?" she snapped.

"Or ... you can remain here in the Palace, under lock and key, until _he_ eventually decides he has no further use for you, and I end up getting myself killed trying to protect you."

"What sort of a choice is that?!"

He stared at the floor, trying to keep his eyes focused on anything other than the way her nightdress was clinging to every curve of her body. "The only one you have, Padmè. The only one ... _we_ have."

She was glaring at him now. He could feel her anger simmering away beneath the surface, threatening to bubble over. Lifting his gaze from the floor, he dared to take a glimpse of her face. She was angry, visibly so. The tight lines on her forehead and the way her eyebrows hunched over her nose were a dead giveaway. And to him, she'd never looked more beautiful.

"So, it is as I said then. I _am_ your prisoner."

He growled. "And as _I_ said ... if that is how you wish to perceive it."

Padmè started to pace around the room, shaking her head from side to side, her silken blue nightdress shimmering with each step.

"How I wish to perceive it? How else am I supposed to _perceive_ it? I can't leave, even if I want to. Tell me Anakin, what other way can that be interpreted other than me being held prisoner?" she retorted.

Now _he_ was getting annoyed. She had said she loved him. That she _still_ loved him. But here she was implying she didnt want to stay here, didn't want to stay _with him._ He couldn't keep up. Either she wanted him or she didn't. Either way, he was far too exhausted to argue, the pains in his chest growing more difficult to ignore with each passing moment.

Vader took off the oxygen mask and hung it back on the wall, turning it off. Rising to his feet, he stood before her, staring down into those fierce brown eyes and gritted his teeth. "You are _my wife,_ Padmè. You said yourself you still love me. But, right now, I am struggling to believe you." He lifted his flesh hand to trail it down the curve of her cheek, then pulled it away, clenching his fists at his hips.

Whirling on his heel, he strode for the door and paused at the exit, glancing over his shoulder at her. "I will await your decision in my chamber. If you _truly_ _meant_ what you said, it shouldn't be that difficult."

With a flourish of his cape, he left the room and thundered down the passage, leaving her alone to consider his words.

Padmè watched him storm out. She paced around the room deep in thought. Her nightmare had left her shaken. The images as real as the walls around her. Even though she hadn't recognized their faces, the way she felt in the dream made it all too clear as to their true identity.

Luke and Leia.

In her dream, their grown-up children had come face to face with their father for the first time on some ice and snow covered planet. One she wasn't at all familiar with. Obi-wan was there, standing between them and Anakin.

After some heated words had been exchanged, she watched on in horror as her husband and his former master and best friend duelled it out on the ice. Anakin was winning, that much had been clear, his artificially enhanced strength completely overwhelming him.

But then the real tragedy unfolded. Two lightsabers, one green and one blue, ignited in the hands of their Jedi children and they leapt to their Master's defence.

It all happened so quickly.

 _Vader thrust his hands forward, launching Obi-wan across the ice and into the cavern wall. His head hitting the solid surface with a crack._

 _Luke yelled and ran toward him, his blue lightsaber swinging wildly in the air._

 _Vader suddenly whirled to face him, widening his stance and preparing to fight. His black cloak flapping in the icy wind and his red blade humming in front of his chest._

" _ANAKIN NO!" she screamed._

 _But it was too late. In one swift movement, his crimson lightsaber plunged through the depths of Luke's chest and the sickening stench of burning Skywalker flesh contaminated the air._

 _She ran toward him._

" _ANAKIN, PLEASE!" she cried, blinking rapidly through the torrent of tears flooding down her cheeks. "CAN'T YOU SEE WHO THEY ARE?!"_

 _His mask briefly turned in her advancing direction, before the sound of their daughter's cry attracted his immediate attention._

 _She watched Leia scream out in anger and lunge at her armour-clad father. Before she could reach his arm to stay his weapon, a powerful thud hit her chest and forced her back, sending her aging body catapulting across the ice, finally landing next to Obi-wan._

 _Red and green plasma clashed, sparks flew and her ears rung with the deafening hum and screech of their blades colliding. Too concussed to speak, she watched as Vader's brute strength overwhelmed their daughter._

 _They had both been outmatched, outgunned and completely unprepared for his blatant disregard for all life._

 _His gloved left hand rose in the air, dragging Leia up from her knees, her ivory fingers desperately grappling and scraping at his invisible iron grip around her throat._

She could still hear the blood-curdling crunch and snap of her own daughter's neck breaking. Could still see the haunting look of pure terror and disgust in her big brown eyes.

When she had awoken to see him sitting beside her, the first thing that came to her mind was; she had to stop this. Somehow, some way, there had to be a way to prevent him from killing their children.

Shiraya had chosen to show her this for a reason. She needed to find them. She had to stop Obi-wan before it was too late.

Obi-wan.

A sudden wave of anger washed over her. Anakin was right in a way. Obi-wan _had_ done this. He had betrayed her trust by sneaking onto her ship that night. If he had just stayed away and let her talk to Anakin, she possibly might have gotten through to him.

But instead he left him burning alive, without even having the decency to at least put an end to his suffering.

Then he took their children, disappearing into the depths of the galaxy, while she screamed in a medical cot on board some ship destined for Naboo. And if her dream was anything to go by, he was now intending on training them to become Jedi, to eventually try and murder their own father.

She dropped onto the bed and huffed in frustration.

As his prisoner, she was powerless.

But as his _wife_?

The wife of _Darth Vader ..._ the Supreme Commander of the entire Imperial Armed Forces.

She would have all of their resources at her disposal.

Even Obi-wan couldn't hide from her with that sort of firepower.

And her husband would be her tracker, the only one capable of sniffing him out. She just needed to get him to focus.

Perhaps it _was_ her only option.

What if her love could bring Anakin back? What if she was the only person in the galaxy who could make her husband see the faults in his actions?

He was right, the decision hadn't been difficult. Because, ultimately, in the end, there was no choice.

• • •

The double doors whooshed open and Padmè determinedly stepped inside. He was back in his chamber, still without his mask. She was thankful for it, at least this way she had some chance of seeing the reaction on his face when she told him.

If he reacted at all, that was.

His back was to her, his hands locked over his cape just below his hips. He was meditating, she recognised his parade stance from earlier times. For the briefest of moments a memory of their time at Naboo flashed before her eyes. One of him standing on the balcony, with the sun gently shimmering through the clouds, blanketing the serene landscape in its first warming rays. He was but a silhouette of a figure until she got closer, her wanting eyes devouring the way his loose white undershirt hung deliciously over his lean and strong shoulders.

Now there was glossy black armour where his shoulders used to be, and a flowing midnight cape that gathered around his hands and hung just off the floor by his boots. He wasn't the Anakin she remembered, but she _had_ witnessed glimpses of him. Somehow, seeing him like this, made her decision slightly easier to swallow.

His head angled slightly before returning to position. On command, the door to his hyperbaric chamber slid open, expelling a loud burst of pressurised air. She walked forward, keeping her eyes firmly planted on his back.

"You have made your decision then?" his husky voice whispered.

He almost sounded apprehensive or unsure and it caught her off guard. Confidently stepping forward, she walked through the door and stood tall behind him. "Yes Anakin, I have," she replied.

His head dipped forward ever-so-slightly. "Well?" he asked.

Padmè propped her hands on her hips. "When you turn around I will tell you."

He slowly spun to face her, his eyes a strange hazy amber hue. They weren't the glowing Sith yellow or the crystal blue from before, but some indescribable combination of the two. "There," he groaned, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I'm waiting."

He was unsure. She could see it in his defeated posture and hear the familiar crack in his voice. Despite the body armour and long cloak, inside he was still just a man. Beaten, broken and resigned to his twisted fate. He was now more her Ani than ever, allowing his insecurities to bubble up to the surface before her. It took all of her strength not to run to him and pull him into her arms, as she used to before he turned. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerve. "Anakin, I am _still_ your wife and as such, will stand beside you and do my best to support you, but ..." she started.

His eyes closed and he exhaled. "But _what_?" he asked.

"But there are conditions."

Folding his arms, he raised his eyebrow and regarded her momentarily. "You are hardly in the position to be making demands Padmè," he reminded.

"Even so," she said. She had to stay strong. His mood was shifting, but so far, he appeared to still be listening to her. "You have to take me with you, whenever you leave."

A dark shadow briefly swept over his face. " _Padmè_ ," he growled.

"No Anakin," she snapped, cutting him off. "If this is going to work, we need to stick together. I won't have Palpatine driving a wedge between us, as he did before. We _must_ be able to trust each other."

" _Trust_ ," Vader snorted. He spun around, turning his back to her with his arms firmly locked over his chest. "I don't trust _anyone_ any more."

"And no-one trusts _you_ any more either. You made sure of that."

"I no longer care for _their_ trust," he spat.

"Well, what do you care about?"

He snapped around, his cape floating from the sudden movement and his expression was one of pure hatred. "Fear," he hissed between his clenched teeth. "I don't care if they trust me, so long as they _fear_ me."

Some tiny fragment of her heart shattered at that moment. She couldn't decide if she was disgusted by his outburst or saddened by it, possibly being a bit of both. "And _me_?" she whispered, fighting back the sudden urge to burst into tears. "What do you want from me?"

"Obedience."

Her eyes went wide in disbelief. "WHAT?!" she yelled.

He stalked forward with each measured stride of his combat boots thudding heavily, and finally stopped barely an inch from her face. She stared up at him defiantly, trying to hide the fear slowly building inside her. His eyes were on fire, the burning gold of his irises tinged with scorching red toward the centre of his heavily dilated pupils. It was as if he had just been drugged, the sudden shift in his demeanour almost knocking her from her feet.

"If you behave and do _exactly_ as I say, then my _trust_ will follow."

The tears were building, threatening to escape at any moment. "Do ... do you even _love_ me anymore?" she whispered.

He smirked. It wasn't a playful or jesting smirk, but the very same one he gave her back on Mustafar. It reeked of condescension, and she wanted nothing more than to slap it from his smug face. He looked up at her from the corners of his eyes.

 _Now_ she was afraid.

"Do I still _love_ you?" he said, lifting his flesh and blood hand to possessively play with a lock of hair that draped down over her chest. He pinched it between his fingers and lifted it to his face, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent. "Yes," he breathed, the word barely audible. "But ... I don't _trust_ you."

"Why?" she choked, and her knees began to quiver.

He rolled his eyes before staring deep into hers, dropping the lock of hair and gently tracing the corner of her mouth. "Because, _my love,_ " he purred, "your lips say one thing, yet your actions say another." Allowing his hand to slide down to her shoulder, he leaned in, whispering into her ear. "That's not to say, I can't be _persuaded_ , Padmè."

She shivered. He started kissing her neck, the sensitive skin burning wherever his lips touched. He had changed during their conversation. Almost as if someone had flicked a switch, transforming him into this manipulative monster. His every touch and caress felt wrong. Like it wasn't Anakin, but someone else masquerading as him. "Ani ... I ... I," she croaked. " _Please_ stop."

"Why Padmè?" he whispered, grazing his teeth along her neck. "You used to love it when I did this."

She twisted her neck, to try and look at him. He pulled back and slowly opened his haunting eyes, staring straight into the very depths of her soul. "This isn't you, Ani," she whispered trying to stay strong.

He smirked again, stroking her hair back behind her ear. "You're right. Perhaps that's because there's not much of me left, Padmè, and what remains is unrecognisable."

Despite his disturbing behaviour, he looked gaunt. She slowly lifted her hand to touch his face, and he allowed it, gently pushing his head into her palm. His skin was clammy, as if he was sick with fever. Beneath both eyes sat a deep purple shadow, and it made his face appear sunken. He looked _malnourished?_ Is that what it was? As her fingers explored his face, his naked eyebrows tightened and his long, blonde eyelashes twitched. "What has he done to you?" she whispered.

He staggered in a raspy breath. "He saved me from death."

"And in return he condemned you to this."

He went silent, falling into her soothing touch. His throat was on fire, with every swallow feeling like razor-blades were slashing at his flesh. Through his veins pumped a stinging sensation, assaulting each and every muscle of his still human body. She was right. He _was_ condemned. But somewhere, buried beneath the layers of pain, guilt and anger, he lived still. And her gentle touch was drawing that life out of hiding.

She pulled her hand away and instantly, he felt its absence. He didn't want her to stop. Needed to feel that human connection, the kind that reminded him he was in-fact still alive. The kind that made him momentarily forget that his legs were now primarily machine. The fact that he now depended on an artificial respirator to simply breathe. Her kind of touch. Hers and _only_ hers.

Opening his eyes, he could feel the change in his mood. He couldn't control it, each and every time that needle in his suit stabbed into his skin, he was thrust into the shadows, mentally clawing at the walls as they closed in around him. In times of danger, it gave him much-needed renewed strength and focus, reconnecting his mind and body with the force.

But in circumstances such as this; when he wasn't fighting off someone who was trying to kill him; it made him edgy, volatile and highly unpredictable. Dangerous. _Terrifyingly_ so.

Her sparkling eyes stared up at him. His hands travelled up her arms until they reached the silken curves of her cheeks. "Padmè ..." he whispered, falling into her gaze.

"Yes, Anakin," she breathed.

Closing his eyes, he stuttered in a breath. "Promise, you won't ever leave me."

She gasped. Of all the things she'd expected him to say at that moment, _that_ was not one of them. Her heart leapt into her throat, forming into a solid lump that stole her resolve. Her hands trembled over his pressed upon her cheeks and she desperately tried not to cry. Voice wavering, she replied. "I _promise_ , Ani."

His eyes suddenly popped open, the crystal blue orbs glittering intensely. He pulled her head toward him and assaulted her lips. His kiss forceful and needy, as if his life depended on this very moment. She could feel his desperation pouring between them.

She responded to his kiss, moving her lips in time with his. He used his bodyweight to slowly edge her back across the chamber. Trying her best not to stumble, she gave herself to his kiss and allowed him to guide her, his massive armoured body completely surrounding her.

She felt something hard suddenly press into the crook of her knee and she stopped. But he didn't. With his gloved mechanical hand supporting her lower back and his flesh and blood hand gently pressed against her shoulder, he pushed her down onto the sofa-bed.

He broke their kiss and stared silently at her, lying on her back beneath him. Lifting his knee up onto the cushion, he leant over her, his cloak draping down either side of his body. There was a distinct fire burning behind those intense blue eyes of his, one of desire and need. Again she felt frightened.

His flesh hand slowly worked its way along her thigh, until it reached the hem of her silken nightdress. Slipping beneath it, he continued to caress her leg until he found her underwear.

She shivered. Was she ready for this? Could she surrender her body to him as well as her freedom? And why did she suddenly feel like she was betraying him? Betraying her memory of him. She stared up at his face to see his eyes were now closed, apparently lost in the moment. His hand slid under the side of the delicate fabric and found her most personal space. His rough fingers gently gliding over her sensitive flesh.

She needed to say something. Wanted to stop him. But she was petrified of his reaction, paralysed by her sudden fear of him. He leant down to kiss her once more, moving his fingers dangerously close to the point of no return. Her heart was pounding furiously. As he moved his hand into position, seconds before his lips made contact with hers she cried. "Anakin wait."

His entire body went rigid and his eyebrows knotted. "What is it?" he groaned, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.

"Please ... I'm begging you. Don't do this. I'm ... I'm not ready," she whispered.

He slowly pulled his hand away and dropped both of them down onto the sofa-bed, one either side of her head. Opening his eyes, she could see the briefest flash of hurt before it was expertly hidden away. He loomed above her, tilting his head off to the side as if trying to understand her hesitation.

She wasn't certain if he'd seen the fear in her eyes or not, but whatever he did see, seemed to greatly upset him. In one sudden sharp movement, he pulled himself up from his knees and stood back, folding his arms tight over his chest.

"Anakin, I'm sor-"

"Don't ... say ... another ... word, Padmè," he snarled, jabbing his finger and glowering down at her. "I now understand ... _completely_." He turned away and stormed over to his command console, picking up his headgear and replacing it. Snatching his black glove, he tugged it over his flesh hand and straightened the chain around his neck.

He whirled to face her, his breathing mask hissing in and out and silently stared at her for a moment, before heading for the door.

"Anakin, please say something," she cried.

He paused in the doorway as it opened. "Where's the point?" his unnaturally deep robotic voice boomed. "You have made it abundantly clear, Padmè. Don't worry, I won't touch you again."

With that, he charged from the chamber and left her alone. The double doors slid closed behind him, and she heard his boots thunder across the foyer marble. Moments later the external suite door slammed shut and the room fell eerily silent.

He was gone, and Padmè suddenly had this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. One that told her, she'd just made a terrible mistake.

* * *

 ** _AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

Welcome RyuuShadow, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Thank you so much for your review. Also warm thanks to Sfloresf and Guest for your reviews.

Hope you enjoyed Chapter 17, and please drop me a review if you liked it.

I am trying to update weekly, but please bear with me if I take a little longer, I don't want to rush it and leave a wake of poor writing and plot holes in the process.

As always...

MTFBWY


	20. Chapter 18: Subire Tenebris

**Chapter 19: Subire Tenebris**

Vader charged down the grand corridors, his blind rage fueling his exaggerated stride. Imperial officers and visiting political dignitaries scattered from his path, fleeing for the first exit they could find. He, however, paid them no attention, his mind busy elsewhere.

She'd rejected him again, but he told himself, this would be the last time. He thought that she'd finally come around, even going so far as to hope that she may have understood him, but he was mistaken. She could never understand him, and he doubted that she ever did before.

How could she? She was always so preoccupied with saving that accursed republic that she loved so much. Democracy this, freedom that. It made his skin crawl. Could she not see what they'd accomplished? Or was it just the pure fragility of her beloved republic which garnered her love?

A love that apparently, eclipsed the one she had for him.

None of that mattered now. What's done, is done. The republic is gone, the Jedi are all but dead and the galaxy finally knows some semblance of peace.

But he didn't. Inside he was a wreck. A ground zero disaster zone. Like burnt and charred lands still smoldering after an erupting volcano. Her gentle touch had stirred something deep down inside him. As if the tips of her fingers had pierced through the very depths of his combat-scarred skin, and ignited one lone, solitary candle inside him, to take on the darkness. But that flickering _candle_ also brought fear. Fear for her, for her safety. Not only from him and his master, but from others as well if she was discovered. And he was too scared to go near it, let alone think about it.

For he knew what it really was, what it truly meant, and how it would be seen by his master.

Weakness.

* * *

 _IMPERIAL PALACE: EMPEROR'S THRONE ROOM_

A twisted scowl deepened on the Emperor's disfigured face, as he rewound the footage. This would be the third time he'd re-watched those final telling moments. Finding the right spot, he initiated the playback, steepling his fingers together upon his desk.

To say he was disappointed was an understatement.

His glowing yellow eyes focused intently on the security holo, trying to pinpoint the exact instant his apprentice crumbled. Perhaps he was wrong keeping him locked up here. Skywalker had always been a man of action, of impulse, a one-man army. But she was taming him. And the longer he spent in that infuriating woman's company, the more damage she appeared to inflict.

If he wasn't waiting for the two doctors to be able to retest him, he would light him up, so his suit sparkled like the stars in the night sky. The force-lightening always seemed to have such a profound effect on the boy after all. Violently reminding him of his proper place in the galaxy, and the severe consequences for over-stepping said place.

His patience was wearing thin. He should've taken her by force. Not allowed her to reject him and cast him aside like some pathetic love struck teenager. His initial suspicions were being confirmed, Vader would never _consciously_ hurt her. He bared his teeth beneath the cowl.

Perhaps it was time for a different tactic. One that didn't rely so heavily on him losing control and instead focused on Padmè.

Yes. That could work. Now he just needed to separate them again. But what to do with him? Where to send him? It couldn't be anywhere too dangerous or volatile. But it had to have some significant emotional impact, one that would jumpstart his, once all-consuming, lust for power and dissolve this sudden hindering conflict.

Then an idea struck his twisted mind. He turned off the holo-screen and rose from his throne, walking to the massive window overlooking the bustling Coruscanti skyline.

Knowledge is power. That was the answer. In the catacombs of this thousand year old Ziggurat sat a plethora of primordial Sith teachings, holocrons and artefacts. He would send his apprentice there, to come face to face with the depths of his betrayal and to learn more on the ways of the ancient ones. To rekindle his passion, restore his strength and amplify his power.

That was the way of the Sith. That was the way of the dark side. There was no room for weakness.

Tilting his head, he felt a disturbance. No, not a disturbance – a tornado. Tearing through the meandering corridors of the palace. His apprentice approached and his anger was _magnificent_. He could feel it, taste it ... even _smell_ it. It ripped through the force like a lightsaber through skin, torching the very fabric of the energy itself.

Perhaps she hadn't tamed him, as he first suspected.

He drew near and the subtle lights in his throne room started to flicker, as if his very presence had them trembling with fear. He smiled, the withered corners of his wrinkled mouth twisting unnaturally around the sunken sides of his jaw. This was going to be interesting.

The two wooden doors flew back on their hinges, hitting the neighbouring walls with a deafening crack. His apprentice always did have a flair for the dramatic. He thundered across the solid marble floor, his cape flapping wildly and his anger so tangible, it created a billowing black shadow that devoured all light in its path.

He was his favourite creation. The perfect combination of both man and machine, an extension of the force itself, enhanced by the wonders of Sith Alchemy ... and he was all his. His to command, his to control. And nothing made him more pleased than to see him at his most potent. Consumed by the chasm of his rage.

She hadn't tamed him. He'd restrained himself. That was now obvious. But still disappointing, nonetheless.

Vader reached the foot of the stairs and dropped down on one knee, tilting his head forward in submission.

"You seem unsettled, my apprentice," Sidious sneered, making his way down the steps.

"No more than usual, my master," Vader growled.

He stalked toward him, his beady yellow eyes narrowing, staring at his creation obediently kneeling before him. Lifting his gnarly hand, holding it just above his shoulder armour, he felt for his presence in the force, delving into the darkest depths of his conscious.

"Are you trying to hide something from me?" Sidious sneered, returning his clawed hands to rest.

Vader recoiled from his comment, immediately reinforcing his mental shields and preparing for his invasion. "No, my master," he rumbled, grinding his teeth.

"Yes you are, Lord Vader. I can _feel_ it." He started to circle him, his robe dragging on the floor by his feet. "Lower your shields at once," he commanded.

"They are ... _lowered_ , my master," he replied, releasing part but not all of his defences. He kept the walls tight around the thoughts of his children, ensuring that no matter what attack came forth, they were _well_ protected. Instantly the cold-prickling probing began, as if his master's clawed finger-nails were scraping at the very core of his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut behind the mask and clenched his fists tight, still struggling to adjust to the unnerving experience.

"Ah, I see," he hissed, as he withdrew from his mind. "Your thoughts dwell on your dear little _wife_."

Vader exhaled, slowly relaxing his hands and dipping his head lower. "Yes ... my master."

"Rise my friend."

Pushing himself up from the floor, he straightened his posture and hooked his hands to his belt. His master turned his back to him, a clear representation of his knowing, that he posed absolutely no threat to him. He stared at his deceptively frail back, waiting for the interrogation to commence.

"She's still resisting you, isn't she?" Sidious asked.

"Yes."

"But yet you refuse to act. Allowing her to continue to dominate you."

"She does not _dominate_ me, master."

He whirled to face him, stabbing his finger. "Yes, she does, Lord Vader. By denying you, she gains _power_ over you. And to my great disappointment, you permit her to do so."

"I have no desire to harm her."

"I see that. You think you still love her, when in fact, you are no longer capable of feeling such menial emotions."

Vader folded his arms and stood tall. "I know, if it came down to a choice between my life or hers ... I would give _mine_ willingly."

Sidious slithered toward him, his face now concealed by the shadow of his robe. "Would you now?" he sneered. "Tell me Lord Vader, if that is the case, then why did you attempt to put an end to her miserable life?"

He dropped his gaze to the floor. "I am ... _unsure_ , my master."

"Your ridiculous obsession with that woman is crippling you. She is becoming a weakness. Need I remind you of our little ... _agreement_?"

"No, master."

"Good. Now, if you are quite done playing _happy_ _families_ , I have some training for you."

" _Training_ , master?" Vader inquired, finally lifting his gaze up from the floor. He watched his master head back to the stairs, briefly pausing at the base.

"Yes. Go down into the catacombs of the temple. Seek out the holocrons of our ancestors and study them. Immerse yourself in their knowledge, unveil their secrets, you may find some of their teachings to be rather ... _insightful_."

"As you wish," he acknowledged, bowing subserviently. Turning around, he strode out the doors and disappeared from sight.

The Emperor ascended the steps to his throne, sliding down into it and switching the holo-feed back on. Watching the screen through narrowed-slit eyes, he studied the former senator still hovering in her husband's chamber. He rapped his fingers roughly upon the desk, assessing the uneasy manner in which she paced around the room.

Still she lingered, probably waiting for his loyal apprentice to return. He wondered ... _would_ Vader go to her before seeing to his training? Or was his anger powerful enough at this moment, he would seize the opportunity for some time to himself?

Ten minutes had passed, and he'd sat patiently, watching as she flitted from one side of the chamber to the next, constantly looking to the door. She'd sat down, stood up, paced over to his desk, gone back to the recliner, sat down and stood up. It pleased him no end to see her so out of her element. The once outspoken and foolhardy young senator, now likened to that of a nervous little girl, waiting with trepidation for her husband to return.

Oh, to have but a glimpse of what was going on in that dear little idealistic yet naive mind of hers. To see the edge of her fears slowly creep in. He waited five more minutes before turning it off and rising to his feet. Vader had chosen his training over her and he smiled victoriously.

Making his way down the stairs he thought darkly to himself. _While the apprentice is away, the master will play._ Slithering along the marble, he moved through the giant doors, willing them closed behind him.

Finally having had enough of waiting, Padmè left the hyperbaric chamber, realizing that Anakin wasn't returning anytime soon. She'd hurt him, she'd seen it, however so brief, flash across his eyes before he stuffed it back down. His plea replaying in her head, echoing repeatedly, _promise you won't ever leave me._ The sheer weight of his appeal eating away at her insides. He'd sounded lost and confused, as if the simple act of her staying with him could hold him together.

She didn't know what to think.

"Ouch!" she cried, suddenly hopping and grabbing at her foot. Without realizing she'd stumbled to his workbench while she was so deep in thought, and tripped over the crate on the floor.

The lightsabers called to her, their metallic hilts reflecting the myriad of different flashing lights in the darkened room. Bending down and kneeling beside them, she picked them up, one after the other, feeling the true reality of the loss they represented.

Each one had belonged to a Jedi. One for every Jedi slain since the Empire's birth. Denied life by the very man that she called _husband_. There must have been at least seven of them huddled together. Each with their own distinct variations and personal customizations. Discarded like their ill-fated owners.

A knot twisted in her stomach. Deep down, although she'd chosen to ignore it, she knew he'd always been capable of such destructive behaviour, remembering back to his admission on Tatooine; how he'd slaughtered an entire tribe of sand people for what they did to his mother. It made her wonder, did the death of each Jedi he killed, have the same damning affect on him the way that one did? Or was his mind – and body – so twisted and detached now, that he no longer _felt_ anything?

"Good morning my dear."

Padmè startled at the voice and quickly jumped to her feet, staring at the door to his quarters in shock. Standing in the entrance, his hooded black robe drawn down over his face, stood Palpatine. The lightsaber she was holding fell from her hands and clattered to the floor at her feet. "Why, you startled me, _Emperor,_ " she recovered. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't apprised of your visit."

He glanced left and right before his gaze settled back on her. "No, I don't suppose you were. I often drop by unannounced to check-in on your ... _husband_ ," he replied.

She sucked in a breath and folded her arms tight around her chest, suddenly aware of her state of undress. "Well if I'd have known you were coming I'd have made sure to wear more appropriate attire."

He slithered across the chamber, casting his eyes briefly to the dual screens at his left, clicking his tongue. "Your manner of dress is of no concern. There's no need to stand on ceremony for me, _my dear._ This isn't an official visit."

Padmè cocked her brow, and stood tall. " _No?_ " she asked. "Then what, might I ask, brings you here this morning?"

After another few steps he paused before her, calling the fallen lightsaber into the palm of his outstretched hand. "Oh come now Padmè, must I have a reason to stop by and visit an old friend? After all, we _used_ to be friends, you and I."

He was twisting the metallic hilt around in his hands, a sinister grin morphing onto his face. Padmè shuddered at her sudden sense of vulnerability, she squared her shoulders and tried to stay calm. "Our so-called _friendship_ died the day you manipulated the Senate into commissioning the military. Our _friendship_ disintegrated when you destroyed everything I believed in and had spent my entire professional life trying to defend. And _any_ _respect_ I _had_ for you dissolved the instant you sunk your jagged yellow teeth into Anakin and made him forget who he was!"

The words lashed unbidden from her mouth, with each hate-filled accusation dripping with venom. He didn't react, merely standing before her, listening intently to each word she said. A silence passed between them, with each of them staring at the other. The lightsaber suddenly lifted from his hand and glided back down to rest in the crate with the others.

Cackling filled the air. Turning his back to the fiery young woman, he steepled his hands at his chest. " _Forget_ who he was?" he snickered with disdain. "Oh no my dear, on the contrary, I opened his eyes to his _true_ purpose." He spun to face her, pointing his gnarly finger. " _You_ on the other hand, seem to have forgotten who he _really_ was."

She narrowed her eyes, keeping her arms locked tight. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

He took one menacing step toward her. " _You know_ of what I speak. I know you do," he purred, the words sliming from his lips. "His thirst for vengeance, his quest for power. Slaughtering an entire tribe of sand people back on his home planet. You accepted it then, yet refuse to accept his decisions now. Because they affected _you_ , and your own _personal_ quest."

"That ... that was ... different," she stammered, dropping her eyes to his feet.

" _Was it?_ " he sneered. "It would seem your support only lasts while it suits you. Snatching it back when you feel your own values being threatened."

Her eyes were ablaze with indignation and disgust, storming toward him without thinking. "How dare you! I've always supported him. Even after he joined you, I pondered his fate, constantly looking to the door for his miraculous return! I loved him, and I still do to this day!"

Burning Sith yellow eyes bored down upon her, the surrounding air crackling with his festering anger. "You say you love him, yet deny him of his most primal _human_ instinct. How _supportive_ of you." He continues, his eyes going dark with disapproval. "You disappoint me, _my lady_. Of all people, _you_ were the _last_ I would've expected, to allow such trivial matters as one's physical appearance to affect your sapience. Clearly I was mistaken."

"What? How do you-" She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Gaining her focus she stood her ground, pulling her emotions in tight. "I take offence to that statement, _Palpatine._ I would _never_ -"

He t-sked, clicking his tongue as if to voice his disagreement. "Oh but you are. How else do you explain your refusal?" he was goading her, trying to corral her into a metaphorical corner. "Is it his face? The scarring on his skin? Or perhaps it's the suit itself? The only thing keeping him ... _alive?_ "

He started to circle her, his beady eyes watching her every move, his robe shuffling along the floor with each careful step. "No wonder Anakin was in a perpetual state of confusion and despair, if your _support_ for him was then, as it is now." He paused to assess her reaction, smiling viciously beneath the hood when he felt her finally take the bait.

Padmè's soaring temper flared, her anger leaching through her words as she spat them out. "How dare you speak such things! I loved him, more than life itself."

He resumed his circling, parading around her like a rancor preparing to attack. "More than the Senate? More than your personal idealistic desire to save that pathetic Republic?" he paused to allow his words to sink in. "I think not. In a way, I suppose I should be thanking you for being so heartless. It made convincing him to join me all the more effortless. Sure, the boy was resistant and stubborn at first, but eventually he broke and surrendered to his fears, as I had foreseen he would. Now not even _you_ will be able to take him from me."

"You see, Padmè ... _I_ am the only constant that remained in his life. That _knew_ of your clandestine marriage to each other and didn't pass judgement. And now your denying him is accentuating that fact. Proving to him that not even _you,_ his beloved _wife_ , cared for his interests as much as I."

Padmè was outraged. How dare he insinuate that she never cared for him! He had no idea of the struggles she went through, the sheer weight of her worry every time he left for the war. Her eyes followed his slithering robed form, watching it almost glide about the floor around her. "You used his fears and the knowledge of our marriage to twist his mind! To turn him into a weapon against not only the Jedi, his _family_ , but also against me! You drove him into the darkness, luring him in with false promises of power and hope! _You_ destroyed Anakin, along with everything he held dear, holding your withered hands out to catch him as you watched him fall from a window _you_ pushed him out of. You may have saved him from death at Mustafar, but what you gave him in return was a fate far worse."

Sidious paused, marvelling at the infuriated creature he'd just brought forward from within her. The woman had strength and a great deal of it. Now if he could only manipulate her in such a way that she fought for their cause. To defend and serve his illustrious Empire. Her old friends would quiver at her feet, reeling from the knowledge that even the most purest of hearts could be corrupted. "Only from _your_ point of view, _my dear._ I can assure you, _he_ does not share your dogmatic appraisal of the situation."

She snorted, staring him down as he stopped before her. "Your over-confidence in his loyalty to you will be your undoing, Palpatine. One day, Anakin is going to wake up inside that prison you call a life-support suit and realize the mistakes he's made. I only hope, that on _that_ day, I am still alive to witness it."

He cackled, entwining his fingers together, before turning for the door. As he made for the exit he stopped and snarled. "Perhaps you are right on him turning against me ... but I can promise you one thing, _my lady._ "

She inclined her chin in defiance.

Baring his teeth, he hissed. "By that time ... _you_ won'tbe around to see it."

• • •

KHOOSH PUUHR ... KHOOSH PUUHR ... KHOOSH PUUHR.

The door to the turbo lift whooshed open. Vader stood inside paralysed, staring at the haunting corridor before him. The rasp of his respirator thrumming in his ears. Unlike the upper levels of the once infamous Jedi Temple, these were unmolested. Preserved. Frozen in time. An inglorious testament to him and his master's victory.

Fear gripped his chest.

Clenching his fists, he took a purposeful stride forward, leaving the familiar sanctuary of the turbo lift. One boot after the other, the sound of his heavy footing reverberated in the chilling silence, bouncing off the ancient stone walls and cracked temple pillars. Dust particles hung on the air, dancing and floating just in front of his mask.

He felt hollow, numbly allowing his cybernetic feet to carry him into the room of a thousand fountains. The plants and shrubbery were long since dead, shrivelled and limp like the temple itself. The central stone fountain had finally run dry, leaving behind nothing but a mass of crumbling stone and ruin.

" _Anakin ..."_ a voice whispered, so quiet that it was barely identifiable. But to the dark lord, it might as well have been screamed.

Vader ground to a halt, freezing in place and staring blindly ahead. His respirator faltered and his scarred skin beaded with sweat. _I must be hearing things._

" _Anakin ..."_

 _What was that?_ He violently spun in place, his midnight cloak swirling behind him, looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time. His throat closed over and his chest clamped shut. Claustrophobia descended and he had to stop himself from tearing the helmet off in panic.

" _Anakin ... help us ..."_

"SHOW YOURSELF, COWARD!" he shrieked, the vocoder straining under his emotional outburst. Wrenching his lightsaber from his belt, he ignited it, waving it threateningly about in the air, the hilt shaking in his hand. A sudden gust of wind whipped around him, tugging and yanking forcefully on his cloak. He staggered backwards, anxiously scanning every decrepit corner of the cavernous chamber. "I said _show_ yourself," he snarled into the empty darkness, sweeping his saber in defensive arcs.

The voice disappeared. Focusing on the sound of his breathing, he dismissed the disturbance and continued for the catacombs, charging past the fountain into a dimly lit opening at the far end of the chamber.

• • •

Reaching the once forbidden sector of the Temple Archives, the dark lord smiled, waving the vault doors open with the force. The gears whined and croaked as they exposed the Jedi's long kept secrets. "Where's your guardian now?" he snickered to himself, adjusting his gloves and striding forward. Pride swelled through him as he glanced at the laden chamber walls either side.

There were ancient stone busts, insignificant artefacts and trinkets scattered upon preserved pillars and shelves. Seeing the assortment of long forgotten scrolls and leather bound books, he trudged ahead allowing his gloved hand to lazily pass over them. Feeling for their content, searching their memory for echoes in the force.

As he passed the ordered bookcases, his crimson vision caught a sparkling glint off a row of holocrons, neatly gathered and stored to the rear of the chamber. They called to him, whispering, beckoning, urging him to reach out and unlock their secrets.

Row upon row of different shaped prisms adorned the shelves. Some cubes, some pyramids others whose shape he knew no mortal name for. As his hand outstretched to reach for a red pyramidal device, the force called to him, tearing his attention to an old holodisc storage unit.

Immediately his helmet snapped to the side, following its call to the dark hidden corner. Closing his eyes, and listening to his respirator, he drew on the darkness, trying to locate what it wanted to show him. A small metallic canister glistened in his vision, the force bathing it in a peculiar red halo. With his eyes still closed, he reached for it, grasping the box with both hands. Without a moment's hesitation he opened the lid, knowing immediately that he had the right one.

Returning to the centre of the chamber, he placed it down upon the ancient stone table next to a holodisc player and started to palm through the assortment of discs.

 _What do you want to show me?_

Placing one into the player, he turned it on, watching as the holo-recording flickered between hazy blue static and broken images. After a few careful adjustments on the crude dials, the playback stabilized and the projection cleared, revealing the entrance to the Jedi temple.

Folding his arms, he stared at the recording with pensive eyes, watching as a dark figure entered with a twi'lek at his back.

 _That's no Jedi._

The audio feed was broken, but from the way the Jedi poured out from the chambers, he could tell it was about to get messy. The image shook and it wasn't long before he saw why. Crashing through the pillars, sending the front of the temple crumbling, surged some sort of ship. It careened through the temple, destroying everything in its path. With wide eyes he stared as it suddenly ground to a halt right behind the dark figure. The figure hadn't budged.

Something hit him, a blinding flash and roar of energy belted him, knocking the air from his lungs and the ground from his feet. Flying back, his half-man, half-machine body skidded along the floor, moments before his vision went black.

" _So ... Lord Vader, you have finally come."_

 _He opened his eyes and glanced around, shocked to find himself standing in the chamber hall amongst a mass of fallen Jedi corpses. Tilting his head he regarded the dark figure, noticing the Twi'lek standing beside him. Around them swirled a haze of glowing red and shifting black, obscured by dust and smoke clouds that hung on the air. "Who are you? What am I doing here?" Vader rumbled, still disoriented._

 _The dark figure laughed, not jovially but menacingly, his burning amber eyes piercing the smog. "It's more of a question of_ when _are you. As you are already aware of where," the gravelly voice replied._

 _He was wearing a respirator, although unlike himself, it only covered his mouth and nose. His skin was pasty grey, and beneath his eyes sat a deep purple-black shadow that made his irises sing in stark contrast. "Fine._ When _am I and to reiterate my previous inquiry ... just_ who _might you be?" he snarled, clenching his fists._

" _I am Darth Malgus, Sith Lord. I have been waiting for you to finally seek me out."_

 _His armour and suit was not so dissimilar to his own. Clad in all black, with a long flowing cloak and a chest control panel with only two lights – not needlessly flicking on and off. "Malgus? How is it you know who I am?" he growled, crossing his arms and stiffening his posture._

" _The Sith have their seers, the same as the Jedi. It was foretold of your existence thousands of years ago. In a time when our numbers were equal to, if not greater than that of the Jedi."_

" _Veradun," the lavender twi'lek whispered from behind. "Perhaps now is not the time. He seems_ conflicted. _"_

" _Silence, Eleena. I am all too aware of his current state of mind," Malgus hissed, shooting her a warning glance. He holstered his saber and planted his hands on his hips. "There is much to see and more to understand ... but for now you must leave. Fix yourself, find your focus, then return. I will be waiting."_

 _Smoke and ash rose up from the corpses, swirling the vision into obscurity. Vader snarled into the air. "Fix myself?"_

 _The gravelly voice drifted through the clouds, phasing in and out with the vision. "Your body and mind are broken. If you are to succeed you must restore them. Strengthen yourself so you are fit for battle, your current condition is not advantageous."_

Burning amber eyes sprung open behind two scarlet lenses, blinking rapidly in the diminished chamber lights. Righting himself, Vader staggered to the table, removing the holodisc from the player. Stuffing it into his utility belt, he shook his head and came to his senses.

Darth Malgus, an ancient Sith Lord, had chosen to speak to _him_. Not his master ... not the Jedi ... but _him._

Calling the red tripodal holocron into his hand, he charged from the chamber, to return to his quarters. It was time he meditated and perhaps if he focused hard enough, more knowledge of this Sith would reveal itself.

• • •

Padmè pulled the long skirt to her figure-hugging black dress down, crossing her leg over the other as she laid on the sofa-bed. Palpatine's words had ignited a burning fire inside her, sparking her anger to unexpected proportions. One particular statement had struck a nerve, his accusing her of not being with her husband because of his appearance.

How absurd. But perhaps, indirectly, he was on to something, referring to the _action_ as his most primal _human_ instinct'. It played on her mind, the notion twisting and morphing. What if she could reconnect with his humanity through _that_? Could their union shift his master's hold on his damaged mind by reminding him of what he was missing?

It was worth a shot. When she finally decided to submit to his will, she was already stepping into the revealing outfit, all to aware of how he reacted to it. Scrolling through the holonet on her datapad, she patiently waited in his hyperbaric chamber for his return.

Almost two hours had passed and he still wasn't back. Glancing over her terminal to the door, she began to wonder if he would be returning at all.

Almost as if her question had summoned him, the double doors slid open to reveal the dark lord. He approached his chamber and waved the door open, stepping inside then closing it behind him. He froze in place, his breathing audibly skipping. Padmè glanced up at him from her spot on the sofa. "You're back. I was starting to think you'd gotten lost," she stated in her senator voice.

Vader clenched and relaxed his fists at his thighs, battling to process the image before him. Padmè was lying provocatively on the sofa-bed in the slinky black dress she always used to save for 'specialoccasions' _._ The plunging neckline swooped down her chest, showing off more skin than he could bear to look at right now. The side-splits in the skirt stretched high up her thighs, leaving her naked ivory knees poking out either side of the front panel. Her hair was out too, cascading down her shoulders and splaying over the cushion behind her head. And her eyes – they sparkled up at him seductively, her thick ebony lashes, surrounded by dark smokey shadow – pierced through his lenses with dead-shot accuracy.

He couldn't stand to look at her, remembering how she'd rejected him this morning. Tearing his eyes away, he headed for his command console and sat down, trying to ignore her.

"Are you sulking?" her sultry voice asked from across the chamber.

He grunted. "If you were trying to test my patience ... congratulations, you've succeeded."

Padmè heard the annoyed tone in his voice. It wasn't exactly the reaction she'd expected him to have. Rising from the sofa, she crossed the chamber and stood behind him, her hands drifting to his arms and caressing his muscular biceps. "It wasn't your patience I was aiming for Anakin," she whispered, leaning her head alongside his helmet.

He gritted his teeth. "I meant what I said Padmè," he growled stiffening his posture. "I won't touch you again, so desist with this charade at once."

"It's no charade, Anakin," she replied, gently massaging his taught muscles.

Every inch of him froze. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. He was deep in the dark side, caught up in the visions from the temple and frustrated by her presence, when he wanted to focus. "I'm warning you, Padmè," he hissed through his clenched teeth. "I'm not in the mood."

"Since when? From memory you were always in the 'mood'."

He pushed up from his chair and whirled to face her, his masked eyes devouring her ivory skin. They stood facing each other in silence – save the hiss of his respirator – with neither party daring to speak.

As he moved to push past, she used her body to block him, locking her gaze with his.

" _Padmè,_ " he snarled, barely controlling himself.

"Don't make me beg, Anakin."

The fragile tethers of his mind suddenly snapped. He would take her, she was prepared to beg him for it. But there was no need to beg, for he was more than willing to remind her just _who_ she belonged to. Grabbing her wrist with a growl, he pulled her to the sofa-bed and shoved her down. Not wasting any time, he pushed the obstructing fabric of her dress skirt up until it reached her hips, exposing her naked flesh to the air. "You've planned this," he hissed.

"Yes, can you tell?"

"Your absence of undergarments is somewhat of a giveaway." His gloved hands grazed her thighs, sweeping upwards and inwards toward their intended destination. Gritting his teeth, he focused in on his target and prepared to attack. As his leather clad fingers brushed against the soft sensitive skin, her voice whispered from below.

"Anakin, wait."

 _Not this time,_ he thought darkly, furrowing his brow. "I'm _not_ going to stop," he bit out.

"Please, take off your mask first."

His fingers continued their journey, dancing dangerously around their target. " _Why?_ " he growled. "So you can see how hideous I look? I am aware of my appearance Padmè."

He refused to look at her face, for fear of her twinkling eyes stroking that distant glitter of weakness buried deep within his core.

"No Ani, so I can see your eyes," she whispered. "I want to see them."

"You won't like what you see there Padmè, not at the moment."

She gripped his upper arm, digging her fingernails into his suit. "I _need_ to see them Anakin."

He pulled back with a grunt and levitated his helmet from his head, then removed the mask, placing them down on the floor beside him. Deciding to put good use to the interruption, he also removed his utility belt and cod-piece, laying them over the arm of the neighbouring recliner chair.

"Look at me," she demanded, and he lifted his gaze.

His eyes were ablaze, the red and yellow colours swirling and burning, sinking beneath the heavy set purpling of his sockets. He looked sick. "I warned you, didn't I," he growled, forcefully wrapping his hands around her waist and flipping her over like a ragdoll.

She adjusted her knees and gripped the top cushion of the sofa-bed. "I had to see them," she whispered weakly, starting to regret the whole thing.

He pushed her legs apart and stepped between her feet, moving the skirt of her dress out of the way. Leaning down over her back, he hissed in her ear. "And now you regret it. Maybe next time, you'll listen." Nipping at her neck, his fingers returned to their previous position and he went about getting her ready.

He felt her shudder as he drove his gloved finger deep, barely giving her body a chance to object. With his mechanical hand on her hip, he primed her like he would an engine component, preparing her body for the next instalment. Removing his hand, he sucked her essence from his finger, freed himself from his suit and adjusted his footing, pressing himself against her damp warmth. He bent forward again, forcing the weight of his armoured body down on her back. "No backing out now, _my love_ ," he growled in her ear, his breath dancing along the prickled skin on her neck.

"Ani, please, don't hurt me," she whimpered, bracing herself. The air was icy, chilling her to the core. Perhaps this wasn't such a bright idea after all.

" _Never_ ," he replied, his voice husky and hoarse. Somehow she didn't believe him.

With a forceful push, she let out a yelp and he drove his hips forward, rocking once, then twice and finally a third time until they were properly connected. He stopped and gasped at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut while he gripped her hips tight. "Don't move," he snarled through his teeth, trying to hold himself together.

All of a sudden her body twitched and it shattered his focus.

She craned her neck to try and look over her shoulder, but she couldn't see him. "Anakin?" she choked, fighting the urge to cry.

He couldn't answer, for he was suddenly unable to speak. A throaty growl escaped his tight lips and he lost himself, drowning in the sensation, feeding on her overwhelming wave of fear. He took her hard and fast, bruising her hips with his iron grip, pummelling himself deeper with each aggressive thrust, hating himself for every second yet unable to stop.

With a howl he finished and the force assaulted him, crashing into his mind like a maelstrom. His body shook from the exertion and he collapsed on top of her, panting rapidly and rasping for air. His skin tingled where they met, and it sent painful shivers quaking through every muscle.

Her broken sobs penetrated his loss of awareness and he pulled away, staggering back clutching at his head. He could suddenly feel her again, in his head, in his body, in the very depths of his soul. Dropping awkwardly onto the recliner, he struggled with himself, wishing he could step back in time.

Padmè gingerly rolled over and tried to sit, staring at her Sith husband crumbling beside her. She could feel him too, not in the same way, but still feel his anguish. "Ani?" she croaked, pulling her skirt down and wiping her eyes.

He looked between his caged fingers at her, seeing the streaks of black eye-makeup lining her cheeks. Dropping forward he cradled his head in his hands and leant onto his knees. "Please ... _forgive_ me Angel," he croaked, breaking down. "I ... I lost control of myself."

She slowly pushed up from the sofa and stumbled to him, placing her hand on his shoulder plating. " It's my fault Anakin, you tried to warn me," she whispered. As he lifted his head, she dropped onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face against him.

"I'm sorry my love," he rasped into her hair, wrapping his arms tight around her body and holding her close.

They stayed entwined within each other's embrace, gently rocking back into the recliner and drifting off into an exhausted slumber.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Bit longer chapter this time, I didn't want to split it, because the events needed to flow into each other. I hope you all enjoy it. We're off to Obi-wan and Jaina next, but we'll check in on our favourite power couple to see how they adjust.

Call out to **Sfloresf** and **RyuuShadow** for your reviews, thank you so much.

Also a warm Sith welcome to **Olivia** and **serenity87** , thanks for your reviews guys and I'm glad you're enjoying it.

I don't know if you are all familiar with the ancient sith, but Malgus is one of my favourites. If you don't know what he looks like, look him up on the wiki or check out the video on our popular video hosting network *wink* *wink*, you won't be disappointed.

As always MTFBWY.


	21. Chapter 19: Suffocant Lux

**Chapter 19: Suffocant Lux**

 _TATOOINE: OBI-WAN'S RESIDENCE_

Another broken night's sleep. Instead of just Anakin's golden eyes haunting him, he was now seeing Jaina's as well. How much damage had her visions actually done? Had they harmed her, mentally if not physically?

Obi-wan sighed, stepping out of the sonic shower and ruffling his hair. He stared into the mirror, seeing the sunburnt skin forming loose crow's feet around the corners of his eyes. The Tatooine suns had done nothing for his appearance, making him look almost as old as he felt. It felt as though years had passed, when in reality it had only been a matter of months.

With a huff, he left the fresher and got dressed.

"Good morning Master Kenobi," Ferus greeted, stepping out from the cellar door with Caleb behind him.

"Morning Ferus, morning Caleb," he replied, lifting the kettle off the stove and preparing some tea. "I trust you slept well?"

"As well as one can expect, Obi-wan," Ferus answered.

Obi-wan prepared an extra three cups, expecting Jaina to emerge from the cellar soon after the others. Offering the drinks to the two younger Jedi, he glanced around them before picking up his own and taking a sip. Closing his eyes, he relished in it's comforting taste, feeling the healing herbs wash through his body. "I thought Jaina would be joining us," he stated, cradling his cup.

"We assumed she was with you Obi-wan," Ferus replied.

"With me? Oh no, she left to retire after our ... _conversation_ last night."

Caleb grunted, dropping his cup down onto the kitchenette. "Well, where is she then? Because she's not downstairs."

Obi-wan cocked his brow and regarded the young man. _Oh wonderful, another padawan forming attachments,_ he mused. He drew on the force, feeling for her presence and startled when he discovered her location. Without saying a word, he turned and left for the front door.

Jaina was standing out front, with her hands locked at her lower back, facing the distant sand-dunes. A gentle breeze agitated the fabric of her robe and carried the silken locks of golden hair away from her head.

"Rough night?" he asked, walking up to stand alongside her.

"I've had better," she whispered.

"Did you want to talk about it?"

She let out a deep sigh. "He's in my head now, I can't shake him."

"Who, Anakin?" he asked.

"Yes, well ... more his _memories_ , his pain. I ... I can still feel it," she replied, lifting her hand to cover her heart. "In _here_."

Obi-wan looked to her and sighed, his gaze falling to the horizon. "I'm sorry young one, I should never have-"

"No Obi-wan, there is no need to apologize. I needed to know, I only wish I knew why the force insisted on showing me this." She turned to look him square in the eyes. "Why me? What can I do with it? It's not like I can fix anything."

He put his hand comfortingly upon her shoulder. "Its intentions, as confusing as they are, will become clear in time."

Her crystal eyes sparkled in the rising suns' radiance, staring into the darkest depths of his once peaceful soul. "You haven't asked me what I saw. Are you afraid, Obi-wan?" she asked him.

He turned his eyes away, watching the heatwaves slowly ripple along the sand-dunes. "You might say that," he muttered.

She followed his gaze to the horizon and folded her arms. "I'm not surprised he turned. I think anyone would have in his position."

 _What did she just say?_ His inner voice cried in disbelief. He calmed himself taking careful steady breaths. "What makes you say that?" he inquired.

She shrugged out of his touch and spun to face him, her face taught with stress. "He was betrayed, used and mistrusted by those he believed were his closest, most loyal companions. Combine that with the pain of knowing his wife was going to die with him being powerless to stop it and with no-one to turn to."

Her voice was accusatory and angry, and it caught him by surprise. "He had me to talk to, I was always there for him. He knew that."

"That's the thing, isn't it?" she stated, turning away. "He didn't know it, and because he was uncertain as to whether you would give him up to the council or not, he didn't believe he could trust you."

"He broke the Jedi Code, Jaina. The council would've had every right to know."

She went quiet, as if his words had suddenly confirmed something. "And _that,_ Obi-wan ... that statement right there ... is _why_ he didn't trust you."

"Wait so you're saying that somehow this is all my fault?" he argued, battling to keep his emotions in check.

"You should never have left for Utupau, Obi-wan. Or at least, stood up for your beliefs against the high council. You knew leaving him there was the wrong thing to do. You'd sensed his internal war. How uncomfortable he was with his assignment. Yet still, you allowed them to silence your concerns with their arrogance. Convincing yourself that he wouldn't let you down."

The older Jedi looked away, turning back to face the entrance to his hovel. "Up until that day, he never had," he grumbled taking a step for the door.

Jaina spun to stare at the weary master's back as he went to leave. "Perhaps, if you had told him that yourself, we would all still be in the temple right now."

Obi-wan swallowed down the almighty lump that suddenly lodged itself in his throat. She was attacking him, and winning. Whatever the visions had shown her, had made her angry, incredibly angry and hurt. The pain he felt surging from her through the force was reminiscent of his, almost as if _he_ was standing in her place. "Anakin was my brother, Jaina. I _loved_ him," he choked.

"So he wasn't the only one who broke the code then, was he?"

Taking another deep breath, Obi-wan glanced over his shoulder. "I guess not. Now, come inside and gather your things, we are leaving for the homestead shortly."

* * *

 _TATOOINE: JUNDLAND WASTES: LARS HOMESTEAD_

Obi-wan held back and watched as Beru welcomed his companions into her home, following them down the narrow steps to the sitting room. Jaina's words played on his mind, dredging up all the pain from his not so distant past.

" _You have forgotten yourself Obi-wan, and in-turn, have also forgotten me,"_ a distant accented voice whispered in the back of his mind.

Swaying in place the weary Jedi froze at the familiar sound of his master's voice, resting on the synstone doorframe. _"Qui-gon!"_ he exclaimed through the force. _"I'm sorry, I failed you master. I failed to guide him, I lost him."_

The ethereal Jedi materialized beside him, an older man with a trimmed beard, moustache and long flowing hair that ran right down his back. His translucent blue image glittered in the doorway, ghostly eyes fixed upon the infant boy calling out to his weary adoptive uncle. _"You lost him because you put your faith in the Jedi council, instead of listening to the will of the force like I taught you, Obi-wan."_

" _I did only what I thought was best for him, Qui-gon. Apparently I was wrong."_

Obi-wan stepped away from the doorframe and went over to Luke, picking him up and cradling him to his chest, a salty tear slipping down over his cheek. Beru offered him a drink and he nodded to her silently, his eyes drifting across the room to the others all deep in conversation. He had a hunch as to what they were talking about; how they were going to save Padmè. Pulling Luke tight against his chest, he returned his attention to his late master.

" _He will come for him. You cannot protect him anymore than you could protect his father."_

He knew this, and still the harsh reality of coming face to face with Anakin again was terrifying. He didn't want to fight him, didn't want to see first hand the monster his former padawan had evolved into. He sighed.

" _I have to try Qui-gon, there must be something I can do. I've failed once I can't fail again. The continued existence of the Jedi depends on it."_

" _You can not keep him from his destiny."_

But what was his future exactly? He refused to believe that Luke had been brought into this world simply to follow in his father's doomed footsteps, fated to serve the Emperor and help him erase the Jedi from the galaxy. _"Luke is innocent, I will not allow him to fall to the dark side like his father. I couldn't bear it."_

" _Allow the force to guide his hand, Obi-wan. Luke will choose his own path. Support him, guide him and step away when called for. Anakin will respect that."_

Qui-gon spoke of Anakin as if he still existed. He knew the truth, he had seen it himself, his hate-filled gold eyes, his all-consuming rage. No, his former padawan and brother-in-arms was long gone. Dead. Swallowed by the icy clutches of evil itself. _"Anakin is gone Qui-gon, now only Darth Vader remains."_

" _They are two parts of the same whole, my old padawan."_

Luke cooed in his arms, staring at Qui-gon beside him. He must've been able to see the apparition, because the expression on his infantile face was one of complete calmness and serenity. Running his free hand through the child's short blonde hair he stood silently, trying to process what Qui-gon was saying. He still refused to believe it. _"I guess we'll see if you're right soon enough, master. Although, I must say, I have my doubts."_

" _Trust in the force Obi-wan."_

Qui-gon's image dissolved into the hot Tatooine air. He'd always trusted in the force, for as long as he remembered. But how could the answer now be to simply hand over the Jedi Order's final hope of ever defeating the Sith, to his Sith father? The premise made no sense. Yoda would never have agreed with his master on this, just as he hadn't agreed on his insistence in training Anakin, and look how _that_ turned out.

"Do you think that could work Obi-wan?"

His stormy eyes glanced around the room, suddenly aware that everyone was now staring expectantly up at him, waiting for some wise, all-knowing answer. "I'm sorry, my mind was elsewhere. Could what work, Sabè?"

"Caleb and Ferus thought that if they created a scene of some description, exposing themselves as Jedi to the greater population, possibly Mos Espa, that it might be enough to lure Vader from Coruscant, getting him away from Padmè. It could give us an opportunity to rescue her without needing to try and confront him as well."

Obi-wan shook his head. "No, that won't work," he dismissed.

"Why not?" Ferus asked, folding his arms. "Surely it's worth a try, Master Kenobi."

"Now that he has her, he will not allow them to be separated Ferus. You don't know him like I do. _Nothing_ ... not even two Jedi, will be enough to pull him away from her. He would just bring Padmè with him and hunt you two down, possibly discovering both Luke and myself in the process. I'm sorry, but it's just too risky."

Caleb shot to his feet and glared at him in frustration. "What do you suggest we do then, Master Kenobi?" he snapped. "Since you know the Dark Lord _so intimately._ "

"Caleb!" Jaina scolded.

"No Jaina, all he does is dismiss every idea we come up with, never offering one of his own," Caleb retorted. "I'm tired of it."

Obi-wan sighed and lowered Luke down to the floor. His continuous wriggling around in his arms was distracting, and he needed to be able to think. Watching the infant crawl away, he stroked his beard. "The force will tell us when the time is right. Until then we sit tight and monitor the Holonet for information."

Ferus placed his hand on Caleb's shoulder, gently squeezing his fingers into the taught muscles. The young boy's dark blue eyes turned to stare at him. "Master Kenobi is right, my young padawan. We need to lay low and wait for the right moment. Any rash action could lead to our capture, if not death, and that won't help our purpose nor give any benefit to the still building rebellion."

Caleb settled, sheepishly averting his gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry master. I just don't like waiting. The longer we delay her rescue, the more likely her demise."

"He won't kill her, Caleb," Jaina stated, sitting down on the sofa next to Sabè. "She means too much to him."

"He's a Sith, Jaina. The only thing they care about _is_ killing," Caleb retorted, giving her a condescending glare.

Obi-wan rose to his feet, tired of the conversation. "Ferus perhaps, it would be best if you and Caleb went to Alderaan and assisted Bail with the rebellion. There is nothing more the pair of you can do here."

"Yes, I feel you may be right Master Kenobi. Plus my young padawan here does seem to be getting a little anxious. What about you Jaina, will you be coming with us?" Ferus asked.

Jaina's gaze shifted to Obi-wan standing beside her and she gently shook her head. "No master, I feel as though I am needed here. You and Caleb go, I'm sure we will meet up again somewhere along the way."

"Very well," Obi-wan concluded. "I will contact him and make the arrangements."

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE: DARTH VADER'S CHAMBERS_

Vader awoke from his strangely peaceful slumber, his hazy blue eyes drifting over his wife's body entwined with his on his lap. Her face was peaceful, relaxed and strikingly beautiful. He carefully pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, suddenly overcome by the depth of his love for her. Her presence was soothing, and he found himself drifting aimlessly between the two sides of the force; one foot in the dark and the other in the light.

He couldn't think. He'd gone too far to _ever_ return to the light, he knew this. Yet, his mind was broken, still haunted by the traumatic events of his past. And if his master even suspected that he was conflicted he would end Padmè's life, he'd already stated as much.

Darth Malgus was right, he needed to heal. His focus had become muddled of late, confused as to his purpose. He needed to get out of his chamber, away from Coruscant for a while. But where could he go, that his master wouldn't suspect his confliction? Where could he take Padmè to ensure his master couldn't reach her while he found himself again?

The small tripodal holocron called to him from his desk. Its crimson aura beckoning him to open it. He looked down at Padmè and sighed, admiring her thick black eyelashes gently resting atop her blushed cheeks. "I'm sorry my love," he whispered, gradually moving to extract himself from beneath her. Holding her still sleeping body in his arms, he gently laid her back in the recliner, taking care not to wake her.

She murmured softly, before curling her legs up and drifting back off to sleep. He could stand there and watch her sleep for an eternity, not wanting to imagine being apart from her ever again. Dragging his eyes away, he turned and quietly stumbled over to his desk, slowly lowering his hulking body down into the chair. Taking the holocron in both gloved hands, he drew on the force, willing it to open.

It resisted, shuddering in his grip before dropping lifelessly into his palms. Vader cursed inwardly. The light was stifling him, suppressing his connection to the dark, which he now needed to open the device. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gritted his teeth and focused, pushing at the light like it was a blast door preventing his entry.

The tiny candle flickered out, surrendering to his sudden push of aggression. The holocron levitated in the air once more, spinning around above his hands. He opened his burning eyes and stared into it, allowing the dark side to flow through him. "Parod nun tave ipros," he hissed. _Show me the way._

It was Malgus again, speaking of other ancients and how they'd betrayed him. Another two Sith, whose names he spat in distaste, Darths Angral and Adraas. He spoke of the siege on the Jedi Temple and his ensuing disgust when the City bombing never took place. The then Emperor had used and deceived him, using his victory over the Jedi as a political weapon to fuel peace talks with the Old Republic.

Malgus's standpoint was clear, he wanted to watch the city burn around him, so he could stand victoriously upon its ashes and stake his claim for the Sith. Only it wasn't to be. Adraas had gotten to the Senate chambers and betrayed him to Angral, claiming that his obsession with his Twi'lek slave girl, Eleena, had distracted him in the heat of battle. Branding her as Malgus's 'mongrel harlot' or _whore_ for all intents, labelling her as his weakness.

"Anakin?"

Vader quickly shut down the holocron at the sound of Padmè's voice calling to him. He took a brief moment to collect himself before responding. "Yes, Padmè," he replied, keeping his eyes firmly planted on his tightly clenched fists on his desk.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

What a question. How could he answer that? She wouldn't want to hear the truth, it would undoubtedly scare her. How he was now frustrated by the lingering presence of the light that she had ignited inside him. How he was currently searching for a way to extinguish it for good. The way he desperately needed to return to his star destroyer to try and gain some semblance of normality once more. None of that was going to be what she wanted to hear. He rasped in a deep breath and gritted his teeth. "Everything is fine," he said.

"You always were a terrible liar," she said.

"Well, I never was one for politics." The words left his scarred lips before he could stop them, and he immediately berated himself for his venom. He knew she'd take the statement exactly how he'd meant it. He heard her get up from the recliner behind him, the creak of the wooden supports, the shift of her dress as she moved and the gentle thud of her feet on the durasteel. She padded closer, and he could feel her presence draw near.

"Not all politicians lie Anakin," she said from his back.

He could hear the hurt in her voice, the subtle squeak in her inflection. "Just all the ones I know," he replied, digging his fingers into the palms of his leather gloves.

"Are you intentionally trying to push me away?"

"No. Just stating facts Padmè."

"Not everything I said was a lie. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the petition, Anakin. But surely you can understand why I couldn't, especially with how close you and the chancellor were and still are."

"None of that matters anymore. Besides, he lied to me just the same as everyone else did. Worse in fact."

She moved around to lean against his desk, staring down at his face. He stared up at her, his smouldering eyes dissecting her expression.

"Don't shut me out," she whispered. "Tell me what is troubling you."

He turned his gaze away, focusing on the holocron on his desk. "Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to Padmè," he growled. "They will only upset you."

She reached for him, gently grabbing his arm. "I think that time has both been and gone Ani. I'm under no misconception about who and what you have become, nor do I wish to pretend otherwise."

His eyes flamed with his sudden wave of anger bursting inside his chest. Snapping his head around, he glared up at her, his lips thin and his teeth locked. "I _hate_ what your presence is doing to me Padmè. It needs to stop, now, for the both of us."

She pulled her hand away and stared at him in shock. "What are you saying?" she choked.

He pushed himself up from the chair and towered over her, his hairless brow furrowing heavily. "You are becoming a weakness," he said grabbing her biceps tight. "I can _feel_ it, simmering away inside me, threatening my balance. I can't embrace it, so instead I ignore it, praying to the force that the insufferable sparkle will disappear."

Tears glittered in her eyes as she stared up at him, speechless.

"If he even _suspects_ that I am conflicted, he will kill you. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Why don't we leave then? Can't we run away so you can be who you want to be?" she cried.

"This _is_ who I want to be, Padmè. I was meant to be a Sith. I was born of it and will eventually die of it. If you want to stay with me you _must_ accept it, along with _everything_ that entails."

"I already said that I accept it Anakin. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. If there was even the slightest chance of you turning back to the light, I would encourage it whole heartedly."

He let her arms go and spun away, charging across the chamber until he was as far from her as possible. "So when I find your Jedi friends, what are you going to do Padmè?" he growled, folding his arms with his back to her.

"If you find them," she corrected.

"No, _when_ I find them," he said, whirling to face her, his golden eyes blazing. "I _will_ kill them Padmè. What will you do then?"

"I ... I don't know."

"Exactly." He jabbed his finger angrily at her. "You say you accept it, when really you don't. And when you try and stop me, I will be caught. Not wanting to hurt you but also not wanting to give him any reason to kill you. Either way I have lost. So I ask you once more ... _what_ will you do?"

"I hope that I won't be there to see it Anakin," she whispered, dropping her eyes to the floor. "I've already seen you execute an unarmed civilian in the street, order your troopers to slaughter his companions and murder Queen Apailana in cold-blood."

Her admission brought him up short, suddenly aware of just how much she had actually been witness to. "And yet here you are," he hissed, his tone slightly softer than before, returning his arms to his chest.

"Yes, here I am. Still standing beside you, still offering my support."

"What am I going to do with you, _milady_?" he asked, his voice almost teasing. "I can't bear the thought of losing you, yet I can't exist the way I need to, around you."

Her eyes lifted from the floor to gaze up at him. He tilted his head slightly to the side, a gentle smirk gracing his softened face.

Padmè smiled, the defiant sparkle returning to her eyes. "I love you Anakin, in both this life and the next. And if that means I have to try and give up some of my values in order to remain your wife, then so be it." She stalked toward him, keeping her gaze locked on his semi-rigid stance. "In return for my support, I ask only one thing," she stated, stopping just before him.

"And that is?" he asked.

"Find our children before they grow old enough to come after you."

He cocked his brow, sensing something from her. There was an edge to her voice, like a distant promise. She wasn't telling him something, but he wasn't sure what. "Padmè what aren't you telling me?" he growled, leaning in closer.

She folded her arms and stood tall. "Promise me Anakin," she said.

"There's nothing I want more Padmè, but-"

"-No buts Anakin. Promise me. I want to hear you say it."

"It would be easier if you gave me something to-"

"-Promise me Anakin, right now. Promise me that you will find our children before _Obi-wan_ has the chance to train them," she insisted.

"I promise Padmè. But as I was trying to say before you kept _cutting_ me off ... it would be a lot _easier_ if I had something to work with." He launched into a pace, shaking his head. "I've asked several times for you to tell me _where_ they were taking you. And each time you denied me. Refusing to give up anything." He spun to face her, his cape drifting in the air. "Did it ever occur to you that I might have wanted to find our children? That perhaps wherever _they_ were taking you was where the twins are?"

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "You only wanted to kill the Jedi. You didn't even know the twins existed until I told you."

Vader squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Look, I do not wish to argue. If you don't want to tell me, then _fine_. But don't hold it against me when I can't kriffing find them." He stormed over to his desk and dropped into his chair with a huff, suddenly frustrated by everything.

Padmè stood in silence for a moment, watching as he focused on his breathing. She looked down to the floor, then up at him. "Alderaan," she whispered.

"What?" he barked, spinning his chair around to face her, his amber eyes wide.

She fumbled with her fingers, staring at them as if they'd just said something offensive. "That's where they were taking me." Lifting her eyes to meet his she repeated. "We were going to Alderaan."

Clenching his fists tight on his knees he spun back around to his command console, shoving the holocron off to the side. "Bail Organa ... I should've known," he hissed, turning on his data terminal and plugging in the coordinates.

Seconds after the image of the peaceful green planet appeared on the holo-screen, his comm-unit alarmed. Snatching it from his desk, he activated it, his anger swelling inside him.

" _Lord Vader, meet me in my chambers at once,"_ Sidious purred over the transmission.

"Yes master," he replied, switching it back off. He rose from his seat and retrieved his head gear, sparing Padmè a brief apologetic glance. "I have to go," he stated.

"I know. Here, let me help you with that," she replied, moving toward him and reaching for his mask.

"You don't need to help me, Padmè."

"I know, but I want to." She carefully took the mask from his hands.

He eyed her for a moment, before cautiously lowering down onto one knee, his cybernetic leg thumping as it touched the ground. Staring up at her from the corners of his eyes, he took two shallow breaths before turning his gaze to the floor and closing them. He waited submissively, his breathing coming in short rapid bursts and his master's words echoing inside his mind. _Allowing her to continue to dominate you._ He was right, but as of this very moment, he found that ... he just didn't care.

"Padmè, wait," he whispered, opening his eyes and staring up at her.

"Yes Anakin?"

"Kiss me."

Padmè stared at him kneeling before her, his hazy eyes swirling between amber and clouded blue, and she was powerless to deny him. Dropping down to her knees, she rested his mask on the floor and cupped his face with both hands, leaning in to kiss him.

She pulled back and he gasped, his eyes a bright crystal blue when they reopened. She could see what he meant by the effect she had over him. It was as if the darkness couldn't survive in her presence, and now she finally understood. "Stay very still, I don't want to hurt you," she whispered, lifting the mask back up and carefully guiding it over his face.

His hands went up to help her, attaching the clasps to the hermetic collar of his suit. She picked up the helmet, momentarily stunned by how heavy it was.

"Just lower it down over my head, Padmè. The seal holds it in place," his distorted voice crackled through the mask.

She did as he instructed, gently assisting it down until the hiss and click sounded. _KHOOSH PUUHR_ ... _KHOOSH_ _PUUHR_. "I hate that thing," she choked, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Imagine wearing it," his deep robotic voice rumbled. Rising to his feet, he adjusted his cape and stared down at her nervously watching him preparing to leave. He walked over to the sofa and grabbed his belt and cod-piece, replacing them, before committing her face to memory.

She stumbled over to him, suddenly fearful for his safety. "Please, be careful Ani, and hurry back," she said.

He trailed his gloved finger along the length of her jaw, gently pushing a lock of her chestnut hair over her ear. "Are you worried about me?" he asked, teasingly.

All she could do was nod.

He chuckled. "Everything will be alright, you'll see. I won't be gone long."

With a flourish of his cape, he left the hyperbaric chamber and exited through the double doors, leaving her alone in his chamber once more.

• • •

Vader lowered to one knee, bowing submissively before the stairs. "What is thy bidding, my master?" he rumbled.

Sidious slithered down the staircase, his withered hands swaying with each step. "Rise my friend," he said pausing before him.

He did as instructed, slowly lifting his body to his full height. Hooking his hands in his belt he patiently waited, focussing on the rhythm of his breathing.

"I take it you have sorted things out with your _wife_?" he asked, not wasting any time.

"Yes, my master."

"Good." He stepped forward and rested his hand upon his shoulder armour, staring sceptically into the lenses of his mask. "I am _pleased_ for you. And now I have something else that I wish for us to discuss," he purred.

Vader tilted his head slightly so he could see his master's face better.

"Your wife, I said before that I had foreseen her being a great asset."

"Yes, master," Vader replied, shifting his footing.

He paused for a moment, guiding his apprentice toward the staircase and gesturing for him to walk with him. "How do you feel she would go back in the Senate?" he asked.

"What?" Vader barked in shock. "Why? To what means?"

The two of them ascended the stairs until they reached the landing. The master guiding his apprentice over to the viewing window overlooking the cityscape.

"She played an integral part opposing the formation of our Empire, my apprentice," the Emperor sneered, resting his hand once more upon the glossy black shoulder armour.

Vader swallowed. "The declaration of 2000," he rumbled.

"Ah, so you remember that day."

"Yes, my master."

"Then you also remember how she was one of the main spokespeople for this ... _alliance._ " He emphasized the word alliance, his tongue clicking over the word.

"Yes master." He didn't like this, it felt all kinds of wrong. As if he was suddenly going to have Padmè assassinated right under his nose for her involvement. His heart started to race.

"If she were to re-join the Senate, then perhaps some of her _old friends_ may appear from hiding." He spun to face him, his eyes aflame beneath the cowl of his hood. "You don't agree?"

Vader folded his arms and stood tall, staring at his manipulative master before him. "Perhaps," he snarled. "But she would be at great risk."

Sidious turned back to face the window, steepling his fingers together. "Yes, you're right. Of course that would mean that your _relationship_ with her would have to remain secret." He glanced over his shoulder. "But of course, you two are accustomed to such restrictions, aren't you?"

"Yes ... my master," he answered, dipping his head. His heart sank. Even now, as a Sith Lord, the second in line for the Imperial Throne, he would _still_ have to keep his marriage a secret.

"Good. Now go and report back with her answer, if she asks, the seat is for Naboo, as before. I believe it is currently _unoccupied_ ," he sneered, waving his hand dismissively.

"As you wish," Vader replied with a curt bow, whirling on his heels and descending the steps. If nothing else, this would at least give him the perfect opportunity to get closer to Senator Organa, and perhaps even his offspring.

 _If_ she agreed to it.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Sorry this chapter took two weeks to be updated, I was on holiday for a week in a lovely tropical island. Bali in Indonesia and didn't want to spend my time there with my eyes buried in my phone.

A few of you have been asking if this is going to turn into a redemption fic. The answer is no. It isn't but at the same time I am not going to turn him into a strange blood-thirsty psychopath hell bent on severing limbs as some fics do. I just don't believe that is true to his character.

There are many other traits that make a character dark, and those I will be exploring. So rest assured there will be no magical cloning of lost limbs or organs and no fantastical cure for his mentality. When Malgus spoke of his needing to "heal" he was referring to his mental focus and his deteriorated body structure, not his loss of limbs per se.

The language Vader spoke when he was talking to the holocron was Sith, it is said that both him and Sidious spoke it from time to time, often when they were discussing things around others that they did not wish to be overheard. When he uses it I will put the translation in afterwards as I did in this chapter.

Special thanks to _**Sfloresf, Selenese, LittleMelly, Ryuushadow**_ and _**serenity87**_ for your reviews.

The next chapter won't take as long to update, I promise. No holidays planned for this week .

I hope you enjoyed this last chapter, and as always, please read and review.

MTFBWY


	22. Chapter 20: Ignis et Glacies

Before you read this chapter, I just want to warn you that it is _highly_ emotional. Two very significant character arcs take place, so much so it hurt to write at times. There is a song that I listened to once I started to really give in to the chapter and that is " _I'm still here,"_ by Sia. I'm not usually into the whole 'this song is for this chapter' sort of nonsense, but this one in particular got me and got me good.

So without further ado, I give you ...

* * *

 **Chapter 20: Ignis et Glacies**

The warm water was like a gift from Shiraya, streaming down over her body like a healing balm. She needed this, only now standing under its magical caress, did she realise just how much. Squeezing a small portion of conditioner into her hand, Padmè stroked it through the luxurious chestnut locks of her hair, thoroughly enjoying its silken touch.

Listening to the heavy fall of the shower, she allowed her mind to wander through the possible outcomes of her current situation. She'd seen obvious signs of the light's existence still lingering within Anakin, but was it strong enough to bring him back to her? He still loved her, as much, if not more so than before he sold himself, but was that enough? Perhaps if she kept trying to get closer, trying to break through his many layers of pain, anger and mistrust, he would eventually come to his senses.

But he was so damaged now. Mentally as well as physically. Not that she had any issues with his bodily impairments, his physical appearance, although not as strikingly handsome and rugged as before, were not distracting enough to sway her feelings for him. She was even starting to find his suit attractive in its own special kind of way.

And the way his eyes, flaming gold or crystal blue, still managed to stare directly into the very core of her being whenever he looked at her. Yes, her Ani still existed, albeit by a different name.

Rinsing the lotion from her hair, she wiped away the suds from her skin and turned off the water. She reached for the towel and wrapped it around her, stepping out of the shower and in front of the mirror. Dragging her hand across the steamy glass, she wiped away the condensation and stared at her reflection. Could she still love him, if he remained this way? The question was pointless, because she already knew the answer was yes. She still loved him, he was her Ani ... he would _always_ be her Ani, and nothing could ever change that. For better or worse. In sickness and in health.

And he _was_ sick. She'd seen it in his eyes. The deep purple shadows that sat just within his sockets, the way his skin felt clammy and cold at times. Even his cheeks had sunken. It was obvious he hadn't been eating properly, if at all. Was that because of the dark side too? Had it stolen his appetite along with his lust for life?

He'd said that he rarely bothered to eat, because the suit made it too difficult. The Anakin she remembered was always hungry, constantly on the hunt for food, never passing up a good Shaak steak or Bantha stew. That was his favourite after all, Bantha stew, just like his mother used to make him back on Tatooine.

She used to order it for him when she knew he was coming home, having it sitting on the table when he walked in the door to her apartment. Maybe she could find him some here. It was the Imperial Palace, wasn't it? Surely someone would be able to bring her some. Then she could make sure that he ate.

Pulling the towel tight, she padded out into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. She picked up the intercom and contacted the galley. After a minute or two of pointless conversation and mindless debate, they agreed to source the dish and deliver it to his chambers. He obviously had quite a reputation, as just the request to have it delivered was a feat in itself. The moment she said Vader's quarters a ruckus took place, heated words were exchanged until finally they accepted. It seemed as though no-one wanted the task of going to her husband's living quarters, even if it was just to deliver his evening meal.

But could she blame them? After everything she'd seen? To them he was merciless and cruel. They weren't privy to his backstory, didn't know how he was once the most heralded Jedi hero, the saviour of their kind and the prophesised chosen one. They only knew him as Darth Vader, the Emperor's personal killing machine. Bound by no rules, a weapon wielded only by his master. No, she couldn't blame them, not even a little.

Dinner organized, Padmè was then left with the decision as to what to wear. She wanted his undivided attention, so it had to be something evocative. Something that screamed so loudly at him that he could not turn away. Pawing through her dresses, she pushed them aside, one after the other. Nothing stood out. Nothing said what she needed it to.

Her hands froze as they brushed the heavy woven fabric of his old robe. The black fibres teasing her skin with their memory. She could do it. But would he react the way she wanted? And what would she wear underneath?

Pulling it out from its concealment, she held it up in the air and smiled. "Yes. I think this will do nicely," she said, switching off the light and returning to the bedroom.

• • •

Vader opened the door to his quarters and strode inside, still questioning his master's intentions for sending Padmè back into the Senate. He'd rationalized the notion by finding a sliver of hope in the idea of getting close to Senator Organa. Close enough to gage his involvement with the abduction of his children.

But what concerned him more was his master's continued reluctance in punishing his transgressions. He knew that he'd sensed his conflict, had felt the shift in their bond like a blast through the force. But yet _still_ he stayed his hands. Still he allowed him to leave undisciplined. It irked him. He'd never shown restraint. _Never_ ... not once in these last nine months had he allowed him to stray without unleashing his anger and punishing him for his insolence.

His master was plotting something, and he needed to know what. Because it undoubtedly centred around him and Padmè. The question was why? And to what end?

Waving open the double doors he noticed the lights had been dimmed. _Have I really been gone that long?_ He strode inside and closed the doors, glancing around the war room. _Why did she draw the curtains to my chamber? It's still early, she can't be tired yet._ His mask shifted slowly, from left to right, scanning every blacked out corner.

Something moved by his workbench. A shadow. His heart thumped. His respirator skipped and faltered. A _cloaked_ shadow. _Where_ _is_ _she_? _Who_ _is_ _that_ _in_ _my_ _chamber_? He stepped closer then immediately froze.

 _Is that ... wait ... how did a Jedi get in here?_

The iridescent glow and sizzling hum of a blue lightsaber shocked him from his stupor, catapulting his mind into turmoil. Wrenching his weapon from his belt, he stomped forward and prepared to fight. The crimson blade sparked into life, hissing violently in the uneasy silence. "Who are you, and what have you done with her?" he snarled, feeling his fury slowly take hold.

The blue light swirled gracefully in the air, whilst the robed shadow kept their back facing him. "Well that answers one of my questions at least," a soft feminine voice called from the corner.

He knew that voice, that was Padmè's voice. But where was she, and what was she thinking letting a Jedi into his personal chamber? "PADMÈ! Where are you? Who is this?" He took another menacing step forward, keeping his saber trained on the shadow and desperately searching every corner of his room.

"You hesitated. I wondered if you would. Now I know." The blue light fizzed out and the shadow sheathed its weapon.

"Padmè?" he growled. "Is that _you?_ " He watched as a small, delicate ivory hand lifted to pull back the black hood, exposing the long wet braid tucked inside. She spun to face him.

He breathed a momentary sigh of relief, holstering his weapon and collecting himself. "What were you thinking?" Vader hissed, folding his arms. "I could've _killed_ you!"

She pulled back the sleeves of his robe and dropped the lightsaber back down in the crate, before smiling triumphantly up at him. "But you didn't," she said. "You, my love, an almighty Sith Lord, _hesitated_."

"WHAT?!"

She chuckled and walked toward him, her smile unwavering, hazel eyes sparkling. "Admit it. You thought a Jedi had broken into your chamber, was waiting to kill you ... and you hesitated."

He dropped his hands heavily onto her shoulders and brought his mask down in-line with her face. "Do you have any idea what could've just happened?" he asked, his tone fierce and dominating. "What I might have done to you?"

She met his stare confidently, trying to make out his eyes behind the scarlet lenses. "You did exactly what I expected you to. You are unsure of yourself, it's blatantly obvious. You don't know what you want right now."

"How can you say that? What makes you think I'm not just showing you what you want to see? What makes you so certain?"

She smiled and reached forward to grip the fabric of his tabard. "Because I _know_ you Anakin. You can try and hide who you are from everyone else, but you can't hide from me. I saw the light in your eyes, it's still there inside you."

He closed his eyes and sighed, suddenly feeling suffocated by the mask. "This is only temporary Padmè. I know what you're trying to do, it won't work." He let go of her shoulders and pulled away, needing space. Taking two steps back he eyed the robe she was wearing. "Where did you get that?"

She looked down at his robe, toying with the brooch at her neck, keeping it closed. "It's from our apartment. You left it there." She lifted the sleeve and inhaled. "It still smells like you."

His respirator skipped. Was his memory getting worse? Those final few days had become so hazy, all he could remember was brief fuzzy flashes of disjointed images and sounds. Mostly of screaming and crying, images of him choking her, the fight on Mustafar with Obi-wan. He felt weak, his stomach suddenly all tied-up in knots. "I ... I need to sit down for a minute," he said, swaying in place.

Again she smiled. "Come with me, I have a surprise for you." She grabbed his hand and guided his unsteady body over to the now blacked out hyperbaric chamber. Opening the door, she moved in front of him, placing her hand upon his chest. "Now, close your eyes."

"What is this all about?" he asked.

"Just humour me ok?"

He groaned, too confused to argue. "Fine."

Stumbling forward, he allowed her to guide him until she pushed him down into a chair. He huffed. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes."

His breath caught in his scarred throat. His desk was cleared, with all of the devices neatly stacked in the corner on the floor. In their place were two bowls of food, a large cob-shaped loaf of bread, two goblets, a bottle of wine and a small assortment of candles gently flickering in the swirling pressurized air. He was gobsmacked. "You have been busy, haven't you?"

She stood behind him, gently massaging his biceps through the suit. "Yes, do you like it?"

"Angel ... I ... I don't know what to say." He turned in his seat to pull her down on his lap.

"I wanted to remind you of what we used to have, before all of this," she whispered.

"You aren't playing fair, you know that, don't you?"

She smiled, feeling the smallest of tears threatening to escape. "I will fight for you until my dying breath Anakin."

He went quiet, gently taking both of her hands in his, caressing them with his thumbs. A subtle distorted sigh escaping his mask.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He looked up at her, suddenly afraid for their future. "If you succeed, that dying breath will be a lot sooner than you expect."

The dam burst and tears streamed down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around him and cried into his cape.

He stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. _She just doesn't understand. I must fight this, I can't give in. Her life depends on it._ "Shh, don't do that." She lifted her head from his shoulder and stared into his mask. Wiping the moisture from her cheek, he tried to stay calm. "Come now, let's eat before it goes cold."

She wiped her eyes and nodded. "First we need to get you out of this," she said, placing her hands either side of his helmet. It released with a hiss and she lowered it to rest on the recliner. He then took off his mask and blinked several times so his eyes could adjust.

The smell hit his nose instantly and he smiled, turning to stare at her as she tried to open the wine. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yes, you haven't been eating, so I thought I would tempt you."

"Up until now I haven't had much of an appetite," he said, shaking his head, the smile not leaving his face. "I can't believe that you've done this, Padmè."

The smile returned to her face, her hazel eyes twinkling in the candle light. She poured the wine into their goblets and nudged one forward, before sitting down opposite him. Lifting her glass, she waited for him to do the same.

Vader removed his glove and picked up the glass in his flesh and blood hand, raising it to hers.

"To reuniting our family," she said, staring deep into his eyes.

He nodded. "To reuniting our family."

The glasses clinked and both husband and wife took a sip, their gazes not once leaving each other.

Vader picked up his spoon and scooped up some stew, lifting it to his face and inhaling its hearty aroma. He felt Padmè staring at him from across the desk. "What is it?" he asked.

"I'm waiting for you to eat. I'm not starting until you do," she said with a concerned look on her face.

"Do I really look that bad? I mean ... besides the obvious?" he asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

She nodded, keeping her lips tight.

His gaze dropped back to his spoon and he sighed, watching the ribbons of steam swirl in the air. _When was the last time I actually ate something? Two ... maybe three days ago? I can't remember. What was it I ate? I had the paste before leaving for Naboo ... surely that wasn't the last time, that was over a week ago._

"Anakin, please try and eat."

He looked up, seeing the concern on her face. Returning his attention to the spoon he opened his mouth and hesitantly closed his scarred lips around it, his eyes closing the very moment the flavour hit his tongue.

Padmè breathed a sigh of relief, seeing his reaction to the stew. She had refused to take her eyes off him for a second, worried that he'd try something to escape. So far so good. He looked up at her, his crystal blue eyes shimmering in the candle light. She'd found him again, dragging him back up from the shadows and into the light.

He scooped up another spoonful then hesitated. "You know, if you keep staring at me I'm going to develop a complex," he teased, taking another mouthful.

"Going to? Hah. I believe that ship jumped into hyperspace a long time ago, Ani," she said, taking a large gulp from her drink.

He smirked. "Maybe you're right," he chuckled, picking up his glass and staring at it. In one sudden, swift movement, he gulped down the wine and dropped the glass back on the desk. Tearing off a piece of bread, he dipped it in the stew and took a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you, Angel," he muttered, keeping his gaze fixed on the bread.

"Oh? What is that?" she asked, refilling his goblet.

The bread rose and fell in the stew, sloshing the little remaining broth that lingered in his bowl. "He wants you to go back to the Senate." He quickly shoved the dripping bread into his mouth and eyed her reaction carefully.

"What? But why? Isn't it all a bit pointless now?" she said, agitating her dinner with her spoon.

He swallowed his mouthful and picked up his glass, his nerves suddenly getting the best of him. "Well ... yes _and_ no," he answered before having a drink. _Perhaps the wine will help with this conversation, I don't foresee it going very smoothly._

She cocked her brow and also took a large swig from her wine. " _Really_ , how so?"

 _Just tell her the truth, the damage will be done either way. At least she can't accuse you of lying._ "He _believes_ that if you return to office, your old associates will come crawling out of the woodwork." Grabbing his drink, he drained its contents and placed it back down, the sudden intake of alcohol numbing his senses. "I'm not going to lie to you Padmè, he wants to use you as bait. He thinks that the developing rebellion stems from the members who signed the Declaration of 2000."

She drained her goblet then went about refilling both of them. "Right. And just what does he intend on doing if they do in-fact come out of hiding? Have them all assassinated or _worse_ , have you threaten them into compliance?"

He shook his head and reached for his refilled goblet, suddenly needing the liquid courage to continue with the conversation. "I don't know exactly. He doesn't tell me everything. He's up to something at the moment and I can't figure out what." Vader skulled back the red liquid once more, feeling the burn as it travelled down his throat. "He hasn't punished me once since the day we got back, which is most unusual. And he's ever so interested in how _we_ have been getting along. Something's off, but I'm damned if I know what."

She stared at him, seeing the alcohol-induced fog slowly shifting over his cerulean eyes. "You don't trust him do you?"

He laughed. "Me? Trust him? Well if that isn't the joke of the century. Of course not. I'm only here because I've done too much to ever go back. Come on Padmè."

He was drunk, he obviously wasn't used to alcohol anymore. This was her chance, the moment to get him to open up and divulge everything. "So why don't you leave? You must have enough credits," she asked.

"And go where? He'd only come looking for me. Besides, why would I want to leave this? I am the second most powerful man in the galaxy. And when I eventually overthrow him, there will be no-one to stop me."

"To stop you from what?" she asked, suddenly afraid of his answer.

He shrugged his armoured shoulders. "I'm not sure. From doing anything I guess. I will finally be free, Padmè. Nobody's property, answering to no-one. For the first time in my life ... I won't be a slave." He looked up at her, quickly brushing a stray tear from his cheek. "Is that bottle empty?"

She fought the urge to burst into tears. All this time he'd never been so forthcoming with his feelings. In their whole marriage he'd kept them bottled up inside, refusing to allow their escape. And here he was literally pouring his heart out to her like never before. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Yes, it is. But I do have another."

"Where is it? I can go get it."

She shook her head and leant down, picking the new bottle up from alongside the leg of her chair. "It's right here Ani, I came prepared."

He squinted at her and before she could blink the lid popped off in her hands. The bottle suddenly hovered above the desk and refilled their goblets. With a playful smirk he dropped it back down between her fingers. "That never gets old," he said, reaching for his drink.

They sat drinking and talking until the candles were little more than smouldering stumps and the new bottle was dry. Both of them learning far more about the other than either had bargained for.

Vader dropped his head on the table and groaned something incomprehensible. Padmè laughed, seeing him so inebriated for the very first time. She realised just how depressed and lost he must be, because he had always despised alcohol, the very thought of not being in control disgusting him. And yet here he was, her Sith Lord of a husband, absolutely intoxicated to the point where he could no longer sit up straight. Rising from her seat, she stumbled over to him and tried to lift his head up from the table. "Up you get, you can't sleep like this."

"I'm not sleeping, I don't want to sleep." He lifted his head and stared up at her, the most ridiculous smirk plastered on his face. "I love you Angel, promise me ..."

"Promise you what Ani?"

"Promise you won't ever leave me. You can't. I'm ... I'm lost without you."

If she wasn't so drunk herself she would've burst into tears, but as it was now, all she could do was laugh. His expression was priceless, it totally conflicted with his menacing appearance. "I promise my love," she whispered. "Now come on, help me out here. There's no way I can lift you in that."

His head swayed and he rubbed his eyes with his real hand. "No, I guess not." With a heaving push, he staggered to his feet and stumbled toward the center of the chamber, only just managing to remain upright. "The room is spinning Padmè."

"That's just the wine Ani, you'll be alright in a minute or two."

He staggered then braced his gloved cybernetic hand against the side of the chamber. "Nope. Definitely the room."

She pulled him from the wall and went to his shoulder plating, wanting to strip him down so he could try and get some sleep. He swayed before her, his eyes transfixed on her fingers trying to undress him.

"Don't," he grumbled.

She looked up at him in shock. "Why not? Since when were you shy?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers into them. "Since I became a Shaak steak left on the fire for too long."

"Oh don't be silly Anakin. I've already seen you, remember, in the theatre?"

"Just don't."

"You're being paranoid. Come on help me with this. It must be uncomfortable to sleep in."

His amber eyes suddenly flew open. "I don't _want_ to _sleep,_ " he hissed, clenching his teeth. He brushed her hands away and staggered backwards, thudding into the opposing duraglass wall.

"You need to. You can get angry as much as you like, you've already choked me once. I'm not afraid of you Anakin."

"WELL YOU SHOULD BE!" he screamed, pinning himself against the wall. Everything shook. The goblets, the bowls, the panels overhead. It all vibrated violently under his sudden emotional outburst. He was losing it and she had to act fast if she had any chance of controlling him.

She ripped off the brooch and flung open his robe, standing before him completely naked. "There. Would I do this if I was afraid?" she asked, propping her hands on her hips.

His jaw went slack and his golden eyes popped wide. Pointing his finger at her he tried to speak. "Have you ... you mean to tell me ... that you've been sitting there ... like that ... the _entire_ _night_?" he choked.

She nodded.

"With nothing on but my old robe?"

"Mm hmm."

With an ungraceful stagger, he crashed to his knees and held his hands out before him, his eyes locked to the floor. She crossed the chamber, not wanting to give him a chance to change his mind. "Will you help me?" she asked, towering over his kneeling form.

"I will do whatever you ask."

He was back. Somehow she'd managed to get through to him. The cape was easy, just a quick unclip of the chain and it slipped away. "Does it just lift off?" she asked going back to the shoulder armour.

"Yes."

He stayed rigidly still, almost as if he was suddenly too scared to move. She grabbed the plating, gently guided it up over his head and laid it down on the floor. Stepping back, her eyes ran over him like a jigsaw puzzle, trying to decipher how all the pieces fit together. She knelt down before him and stared into his distant smouldering eyes. It was as if he wasn't even there, lost in his own mind, or was it the alcohol? "Ani, I can't do this without you," she whispered, gently tracing the scar down his cheek. His gaze drifted to her.

Bracing both hands on the ground, he silently pushed himself up, swaying briefly before finding his balance. He closed his eyes and started to undress. First his glove, then his boots, followed by his belt and cod-piece. He paused and shuddered in several uneven breaths. "The seam is down my back. If you wish to undo it, you may do so. If not, I will use the force ... as I normally do."

He still hadn't reopened his eyes, instead frozen in place. "Let me try," she said, moving in behind him.

He sighed, a long exhausted sigh, one that echoed the deepest roots of his fears. The zip lowered, squeaking as it descended from her careful assistance. He took another deep breath, trying to breathe through it. Her hands reached his hips and he shuddered, feeling the cool rush of air breaching his suit. His heart pounded, the pulse of his blood throbbing in his ears. She was suddenly in front of him again, staring up expectantly.

Locking his eyes with hers, he numbly pulled his arms from the sleeves and eased it away from his chest panel. Without so much as a blink, he edged the bulky black suit down his badly scarred torso, lowered it over his hips and tugged it away from his thighs, the resistance disappearing once it reached his slimmer prosthetic legs.

He stepped out of the suit, being careful to avoid the surgical needles hidden between the quilted layers. "There. Now we are even," he whispered, turning his head away.

Padmè tried to suffocate her gasp. She held her hands out and went straight to his chest, her fingers tracing around each haggard scar. She stopped at the black box barely concealed below his collar bone.

"It is a central regulator. It monitors my vital signs and communicates with the suit. That is what went flat the other night. It was trying to restart my heart."

His voice was slurring and detached, and she couldn't help but feel that, if it wasn't for the wine he wouldn't be allowing her to do this. With every feather soft touch, every gentle caress his muscles twitched and shuddered. Her hands explored his body as if for the first time ever, feeling every burn mark, every surgical scar and every lightsaber wound she could find. She glanced down at his legs and saw the angry inflammation around where his flesh interlaced with the alloy. "They did a pretty rough job on you Anakin. You've been butchered," she whispered, blinking away the tears.

He sighed, swaying once more. "I know."

"Can't those two doctors do something? Or at least try?"

He shook his head, the movement making the room spin. "He won't let them. He wants me this way. To suffer constantly. The pain strengthens my union with the dark side Padmè. It makes me stronger."

"Are those needle tracks in your torso?"

"Yes."

She wiped her eyes before running her fingers over them, growing more disturbed when she realized just how many there were. "There's ... there's hundreds of them Anakin. What are they for?"

His expression went dark and the air suddenly felt cold as ice. When he spoke his voice carried a menacing chill that made her blood suddenly run cold. "Every two hours a specially formulated serum is injected into my blood stream. It is a chemical enhancement, a type of drug, that spikes my nervous system and sends my mind into a frenzy. However, this morning, it ran out."

"He's keeping you _drugged_?"

He lifted his flesh hand and covered his face. "Yes. I am nothing but a weapon to him. And weapons need maintenance and continuous check ups. I have one scheduled for tomorrow in-fact."

She couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't just battle scarred and wounded. He was butchered and abused, and it was all just too much for her to handle. She threw her arms around his neck and leant up to kiss him. Her lips crushing his with her sudden despair.

He responded, gingerly at first, then suddenly wrapped his hands around the back of her head and thrashed his mouth against hers. Like their lips were caught in a bloody battle between life and death.

A steady trickle of warm tears slid down their cheeks and their hands grappled at each other, as if one wrong move and the other would slip away into the darkness. They circled the chamber, spinning slowly around and around, completely lost in the moment. The force sang triumphantly around them, playing its own special melody, one only they could hear, fed by the thunder of their hearts and the rhythm of their feet.

Vader slowed the spin and guided them subconsciously to the sofa. He lowered his hands to her hips, cupping them just beneath the curve of her backside and lifted her off the floor. Carrying her to the prepared bed – complete with pillows and blankets – he lowered them both down onto it, never once breaking the kiss. His body surrounded her, caging her within his embrace.

He broke the kiss and pulled his head back, his glistening blue orbs staring. She gazed back up at him, seeing the surrender in his eyes. He had broken, given up the fight and was now looking upon the face of his captor, a tiny river of diamond tears trickling down his skin.

Padmè freed her arms and grabbed his head, pulling him back down against her. He moved with her, their lips returning to the war. Her legs wrapped around his, drawing his body into hers. She felt him bare his teeth against her lips as he entered, an exhausted gasp escaping him. Their bodies rocked, still struggling for grip, fighting for each other, refusing to give in to the demands of the outer-world.

They wrestled together, the blankets twisting and shifting around them. Hands were everywhere, searching, grabbing and exploring. Sweat beaded on their skin as they rolled over and over, unable to get close enough. It was a dangerous dance, a battle between light and dark, one screaming to be saved, the other desperately clinging to their hand trying to pull them up out of the chasm of their demons. Tears mixed with sweat and strangled gasps as their passions exploded.

They finished together, sparks dancing between them, prickling their skin and uniting their minds. Vader growled at the sensation of feeling her mind again, the way her emotions flowed through him, entangling themselves around his and consuming him.

"I'm yours Anakin," she whispered, lost for breath. "All that I am, belongs to you. Now and forever. Dark side or light."

He dazedly stared down into her eyes, the weight of her admission crushing his chest. The amber briefly flashed in his irises before disappearing just as fast. "Dark ... or ... light?" he breathed.

"Dark or light," she repeated, not breaking their stare.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed on top of her, completely exhausted, as if a massive weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. He slowly rolled off her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck. His teeth grazed her skin and he whispered into the curve of her ear, so quietly she could barely hear him. "Angels shouldn't play with fire, their wings could get burned."

"It's not fire that scares me, but ice. Keep me warm Ani, keep the chill from my veins."

"Forever and always, Padmè. Until my heart stops beating, even after that."

She tucked her back into the curve of his torso and took a deep breath, pulling his hands around and cradling them to her breast. "I'll do it my love, I'll go back to the Senate. As long as it keeps us together."

He sighed and nestled his chin into her shoulder, inhaling her scent. "I'm terrified of falling asleep."

"Why?"

His breathing changed, slipping into a deeper, slower rhythm. "I'm afraid that ... when I open my eyes ... you won't _be_ here. That this was all some fantastical dream fabricated by my mind. That I'm going to wake up to a ribbon of bubbles streaming passed my face, making their way up to the surface of the bacta tank."

Another tear slipped over her cheek and she squeezed his hands tighter. "I'll still be here when you wake. It's no dream Anakin. Now let go, let sleep take you, there's no sense in fighting it."

His body relaxed and he drifted off, finally succumbing to the darkness.

Padmè lifted his flesh hand to her face and pressed a tender kiss on his skin. "Rest easy my love. I'll see you in my dreams."

* * *

 _IMPERIAL PALACE: EMPEROR'S THRONE ROOM_

Gold and red eyes burned in the shadows. The holo-screen flew from the desk, careening through the icy air and smashing into the wall. Gnarled fingers clenched so tightly, they almost drew blood.

Sidious rose from his throne and slithered to his window, staring at the sky-hoppers and speeders as they unawaredly flew passed. He'd been able to see nothing. Her drawing the curtains to his chamber had blocked out the security recorders embedded in the duraglass.

The force was sending him all kinds of mixed signals, resembling that of a cataclysmic cyclone or tornado, tearing up and devouring everything it encountered. He should barge in there, and demand to know what's going on. Punish him for his insolence by torturing her. He couldn't use force lightening on Vader until after he had confirmation his plan was a success ... but it didn't mean he didn't want to. His apprentice was unfocused and confused of late. Slipping dangerously close to the weaker light side of the force. And it was all because of her. Her _love_ for him.

If he didn't intervene soon, he ran the risk of losing him. And he wouldn't allow it. Vader was his. All his. He gave himself to him. Surrendered both his body and his soul.

He went back to his desk and slammed his hand down onto the communicator. "Celeste, wake up."

" _Yes_ _sire_?" a weary voice answered.

He bared his yellowed teeth and hissed, pouring all of his hatred into his words. "No more delays. He is tested tomorrow. Is that clear?"

" _Crystal, my lord._ "

"Good. And I want his dose doubled, it appears to be losing its potency."

" _Yes my lord. Is there anything else?_ "

"No. See that it's done."

" _Very well sire._ "

He ended the call and slumped into his throne, tapping his withered fingers heavily on the desk. "You will remember your place, my apprentice. If I have to kill you to bring you back, kicking and screaming."


	23. Chapter 21: Copulati Fatum

**Chapter 21: Copulati Fatum**

TATOOINE: JUNDLAND WASTES: LARS HOMESTEAD

Sand clouds billowed and danced in the backdraft as the Tantive III slowly lowered to the ground. The dusk light, a mesmerizing amalgamation of oranges and reds, turned the ordinarily grey ship an odd shade of pink against the setting twin suns. It thudded down to rest on its support struts and the thrusters died out.

Pulling his hood tight around his face, Obi-wan waited for the ramp to descend, anxious to catch up with his old associate. In the time since the Empire's birth, he'd only managed to commune with the humble Alderaanian Viceroy over long distance transmitters and heavily encrypted recorded messages. He was looking forward to seeing a familiar friendly face again. Although surrounded by local traders and tribes, along with his former padawan's estranged family, he was truly the most lonely he'd ever felt in his entire existence. Alone with nothing but his thoughts. _Painful_ thoughts filled with regret, guilt and shame.

Luke was his light in the darkness, his shining beacon of hope ... of atonement ... of forgiveness. And he'd clung to him like a lifeline, unwilling to stray from his presence. For he was Anakin's legacy, his saving grace, his unknowing gift to the greater galaxy. The name Skywalker would one day again be a symbol of hope and peace – as it was before – a name that people could speak with fondness of heart and mind. As it should be. As it should always have remained.

He sighed, watching Bail exit the ship and walk toward him. Surprisingly, he'd come out alone without his usual entourage of military protection.

"Master Kenobi, it has been far too long."

Obi-wan forced a half-smile, offering a gentle nod in response. "Indeed it has. Welcome to Tatooine, my old friend." Taking his outstretched hand, he gave a firm shake and looked deep into his soulful brown eyes. He was as impeccably groomed as always, his neatly trimmed facial hair and pure skin contradicting the hidden look of fatigue on his face. "How are things?" he asked.

"These are trying times Obi-wan ... trying times. However, I would prefer if we discussed it in less open environments. One can never be too careful these days."

The weary Jedi nodded. "I couldn't agree more." He gestured to the entrance. "Won't you come inside, we have much to talk about."

The two men entered the sitting room, greeted by Beru and Sabè setting the extended table for dinner. Jaina was sitting on a rug by the holo-screen playing with Luke, busy keeping him entertained while his aunt prepared their meal.

Clearing his throat, Obi-wan ushered the Senator forward. "Beru, Sabè, Jaina, I'd like you to meet Senator Bail Organa from Alderaan."

Three pairs of eyes shifted in their direction, eyeing over the visitor.

"Welcome to my home, Senator Organa," Beru said, placing the last of the plates down on the table. "Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready shortly." She flashed him a quick smile before disappearing with Sabè back into the kitchen.

"Ferus and Caleb went out to fetch Owen. They should be back any minute now," Jaina said. "Welcome Senator, it's nice to see you again."

"Likewise young lady. Breha extends her continued gratitude and wishes for me to re-propose her initial offer, in-case you might be interested."

Jaina smiled and turned her gaze to Luke and then Obi-wan. "I appreciate your kindness, however my destiny is here. Someone has to keep an eye on things."

Bail chuckled. "Yes, quite right, my lady. But if you should ever wish to reconsider ..."

"I know where to go," she finished, smiling up at him before returning her attention to Luke.

The two men took a seat on the sofa, both watching Jaina and Luke. Bail sighed, and folded his arms, resting back into the cushion.

"You seem exhausted," Obi-wan said, crossing his leg.

Warm brown eyes fell upon him, along with a slight smirk. "I could say the same for you."

"Hmmm," he muttered with a stroke of his beard. "How is Breha going?"

A happy giggle sang from the rug. Jaina was tickling Luke, an action he appeared to thoroughly enjoy. His little legs kicked helplessly in the air as her fingers relentlessly assaulted him.

Bail sighed. "She's struggling. I hate leaving her alone seeing how weary she has become." He turned to him. "She feels inadequate, Obi-wan. Ever since Jaina was able to settle Leia from one of her many outcries, she is doubting herself. Doubting her abilities to be the mother of a force-sensitive."

"Is the child still not sleeping?"

He shook his head. "The last few nights have been better. She suffers from terrible night-terrors. It pains me to see her tiny body thrashing around in the cot." He sighed again, looking back to Luke. "It's as if she's in pain. The screams, the shaking. Sometimes it can last for nearly fifteen minutes and we are powerless to stop it. Unable to wake her from whatever she is seeing."

Stroking his beard, Obi-wan mumbled in response. "Luke is the same and he too has slept easier these past few nights."

"I wish I knew what to do, Obi-wan. The stress is taking it's toll on Breha and I don't know how much more she can take."

Obi-wan fought the urge to tell him of their mother, still unsure as to what to do. The Viceroy would no doubt insist on her rescue as did the others. Of course, he knew ways of getting inside the palace, hidden corridors and secret passages ran rampant throughout the ancient ziggurat. But he still wasn't sure. "I'm sure things will get easier in time Bail, we just have to keep trying."

"Yes, you're probably right."

"So ... are you off to Coruscant after here?"

The Viceroy sighed and folded his arms. "Yes. The _Emperor_ has called another session of Congress tomorrow." He turned back to Obi-wan. "He has already posted the agenda and what puzzles me is ... he has now included Darth Vader on the distinguished guests list."

"Curious," Obi-wan muttered, stroking his beard. He could feel the spike in Jaina's attention to their conversation, her eyes practically boring holes into him from across the room. He shot her a warning glance, his expression telling her not to breathe a word.

"But I guess I'll know more when I get there. At least this way we'll finally get a chance to see him."

"Yes, well there is _that._ "

Owen walked into the sitting room, followed by Ferus and Caleb. He dumped his sandy coat on the rack and wiped his face with a rag, glaring at Obi-wan on the sofa. "Haven't you got your own home to go to?" he groaned.

"Now Owen," Beru said, carrying a steaming hot platter of food over to the table, "is that any way to speak to our guests?"

He grunted, pulling out a dining chair and dropping down into it. "We're supposed to be keeping the boy safe. With all the Jedi we have here, we may as well send the Empire an invitation."

"They're not causing any harm. Come and sit down, all of you, dinner is ready."

They gathered at the dining table and started to eat, their conversation mainly revolving around the Senator and his recent involvement with the growing rebellion. Every so often Obi-wan would course-correct the discussion, steering them well clear of any speculation on his former padawan and his wife. Sabè remained quiet for the most part, politely nodding and responding when spoken to, lost in her own thoughts, still trying to find a way to rescue her friend.

Jaina's attention was consumed by Luke in his highchair, trying to get him to try tiny samples of the dinner Beru and Sabè had prepared. He seemed more intent on wearing the food as apposed to eating it, covering his face in blended root vegetables and slapping his sticky hands into the pile of mush on the small table. She chuckled, pretending his spoon was a TIE-fighter, mimicking their whining noise as she brought it to his face. Every time she did it, he giggled merrily, bouncing up and down in his seat and slapping his hands down, spraying bits of food into the air.

Bail placed his cutlery down and dabbed his mouth with a serviette. "That was delicious, Mrs Lars, I thank you for the splendid meal." He rose from his seat and straightened his tunic. "But if I am to make it to Coruscant in time for my meeting, I'm afraid that I must return to my ship."

"You are always welcome here Senator, the door will always be open," Beru said, giving him a smile.

He bowed his head. "Thank you my lady."

Ferus and Caleb joined him, both having finished moments earlier. The younger man went to collect their things while the master locked eyes with Jaina. "I do wish you'd come with us my young padawan."

She ran her hand through Luke's tufted hair and sighed. "I know, but I'm needed here Ferus." She looked back up at him. "Thank you for everything, you and Caleb have both taught me so much."

"Let me walk you out," Obi-wan said, rising from his seat.

The twin suns had fallen behind the sand-dunes, plunging the wasteland into shadow. The ship's thrusters were already engaged, the steady vibration shifting the ground beneath its struts. Stopping by the boarding ramp, the group huddled together to say their final goodbyes.

"Keep me posted, Bail," Obi-wan said, shaking his hand.

"I'll let you know what I find, Master Kenobi. As always, it has been an honour," he replied, patting him on the shoulder.

"Likewise, old friend."

Caleb pulled Jaina into his arms, squeezing her body tight. "Promise you'll stay in contact. I have a bad feeling about all this," he whispered.

"I promise. Now get out of here you silly nerf-herder and look after Ferus," she said, softly punching him in the arm. "And stay out of trouble, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He cocked his brow and chuckled. "That doesn't narrow it down much, short-stuff."

"Ha, ha. Very funny. You know what I mean."

He chuckled and joined Bail and Ferus. "Yeah, yeah I know."

They moved to ascend the ramp when Ferus stopped, spinning back around to face his padawan and Obi-wan. "Look after my padawan, Master Kenobi. Keep her out of trouble."

"You have my word Ferus. May the force be with you." He folded his arms and watched the group disappear into the ship, the landing ramp drawing to a close behind them.

Jaina sighed. "He's worried about us," she whispered.

"Yes, I sense it too."

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE: DARTH VADER'S CHAMBERS_

Incompetence, he hated it. Fully clad in his armoured suit, the dark lord stood by his command centre, outside of the hyperbaric chamber, and clenched his fists tight.

" _I'm sorry my lord, but the Viceroy's consular ship left the system just as the fleet started to arrive. There was nothing we could do."_

He tried to keep his frustrations contained, afraid of disturbing Padmè still asleep in his chamber. "Blockade the system and monitor all transmissions. I want a scouting party sent down to the surface, perhaps they will succeed where you failed."

The captain audibly gulped. " _And what do I tell them to look for?_ "

"There are rumours of fugitive Jedi on the planet. They are to investigate these and report back at once, is that clear _Captain?_ "

" _Yes my lord."_

"Good."

Vader shut down the transmission and stared at the dual screens in disgust. He couldn't shake the images of Padmè's dream from his mind. Hearing her scream out to him in desperation as he murdered his own children in front of her. The visions had disturbed him so much that they'd ripped him from sleep, bathed in sweat and writhing in agony. He'd never laid eyes on his children, not even as babies. How was he supposed to know who they were? And that blasted dream was so real ... so true to life. The events playing out exactly as he could foresee them occurring.

This only strengthened his hatred for Obi-wan. Now determined to tear the galaxy apart planet by planet if that's what it took to find him and claim his children. He glared at his mugshot on the screen, committing it to memory, then closed his eyes. Channelling his anger, he tuned it to a point, focusing it on the residual image in his mind's eye.

The dark side of the force echoed around him, twisting and warping his senses, dragging him deep into its suffocating embrace and consuming him. He could hear his voice, only muffled, as if spoken under water. Again he focused, pushing harder.

Heat ... blistering heat. It enveloped him, his suit unable to provide any protection. He was suddenly blinded by the brightest light he could possibly imagine, stronger than that of any single sun, that slowly faded into darkness. Then out of the shadows, two eyes appeared, a stormy grey; desolate and empty, much like his own. They looked at him – no stared at him – as if they could penetrate the very core of his being. He wanted to look away, to break the connection ... but he couldn't. He needed to find something he could use, a clue or hint as to his former master's location, some indication as to whether he was indeed on Alderaan. Their eyes fixated on each other, neither one chancing even the briefest of blinks.

" _Anakin."_

Vader's flaming eyes flew open inside the mask and he stumbled back. "No," he growled. He'd connected with him and to make matters worse ... Obi-wan had noticed, reaching out to him through the force. Panic struck. His heart raced and his head pounded. The wine from last night had done a number on him, the resulting headache making him edgy and irritable. Not to mention that his stomach was now threatening to purge its very contents at any given moment.

His comm-unit beeped.

Pulling it from his belt, he stared at it. Now his master was summoning him, could this day get any worse? Stuffing it back into his belt, he glanced at his chamber to see Padmè still fast asleep. Gritting his teeth, he stormed from the war room and left his quarters.

• • •

"Rise Lord Vader."

His master was displeased. He could feel it radiating through their bond like an electrical storm. He did as instructed, hooking his hands into his belt and bracing for the attack.

Sidious circled him, his cloak dragging by his feet and his tongue clicking. He paused behind him, dropping his hand heavily onto his shoulder armour.

Immediately the invasion started. Not subtle and worming like usual. No _..._ this time it was different. _This_ was punishment. He forced himself deep into his psyche, ripping through mental barricades and slamming against shields. Cold shivers and stabbing needling penetrated every secluded crevice of his mind. He choked back a scream and bit his tongue. The pain far worse than anything he'd ever experienced, so much so, that even being burned alive paled in comparison.

Vader gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed, trying hard not to shake. He fought the urge to force his master out, knowing that it would only exacerbate the situation.

"You are conflicted," he sneered in disgust. "Your mind is _polluted_ by light. You reek of it."

He couldn't respond, as enduring the pain was taking every ounce of his focus. Dropping his gloved hands, he clenched them at his sides, whilst his master dug deeper, tearing through his memories and most private thoughts. Even last night wasn't off-limits. He couldn't fight him, even though he was more than capable. He'd earned this and he knew it; had known it the moment he'd let down his guard with Padmè last night. This was precisely the reason why he despised alcohol. It made people stupid and led to stupid decisions.

Sidious pulled out and began circling again.

Vader gasped, staggering and nearly falling to a heap on the floor. His head felt as though it might explode, sparks flashed before his eyes and his ears were ringing. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he'd just been caught in the wake of a thermal detonator going off.

"But your _anger_ is invigorating. I can feel it surging through you, driving you, renewing your focus."

The room was spinning and he could barely make out his voice, the sound coming through warbled and distorted. "Yes ... my master." He blinked rapidly trying to get his eyes to focus through the haze.

Pausing before him, his master tilted his robed head and stared. "But what surprises me, my apprentice, is how it's not aimed at me ... but at _yourself_."

"I – I was ... _foolish_. It will not happen again."

He clicked his tongue and regarded his seemingly submissive posture. "See that it doesn't." Ascending the steps, he returned to his throne and sat down, steepling his fingers upon the desk. "You were supposed to report back with her answer last night."

Vader folded his arms and focused on his breathing, still sifting through the unravelled chaos of his brutalized mind. "She has agreed ... to – to re-join the Senate master."

"Oh she has, has she? I'm pleased to hear it. With Padmè back in the Senate it won't be too long before our enemies reveal themselves. Then we can crush them with the full might of our Empire."

"Yes master."

"And what of your training? Did you learn anything?"

Vader relaxed, feeling the turn of the conversation. He puffed his chest and stood tall. "I uncovered several ancient holocrons and holodiscs that I found to be of some interest."

His master leaned forward, his attention captivated. "Oh, of what?"

"Security footage from when the Jedi Temple fell to the Sith."

He leaned back in his chair, smiling victoriously, almost like he'd already known that he'd find _those_ particular recordings interesting. "Ah, yes. Much like your own siege on the temple, my apprentice. Except you did it alone, with only clones to assist you."

"Yes master."

He rose from his seat and opened his top drawer, pulling something out. Taking to the stairs, he slithered toward him. "And the Sith that garnered your interest?"

"Darth Malgus. I find he has certain qualities which are not so dissimilar to my own."

"Yes ... I can see why you would feel as though you can relate to him." He reached the base of the stairs and approached with the object in-hand. "I have a gift for you, my friend," he said offering the object.

Vader took the leather-bound book and stared at it. "What is it?" he asked.

Placing his withered hand back upon his shoulder, his master stared into the lenses of his mask. "Darth Malgus's journal. It has been handed down over the centuries, passed from Sith master to apprentice, since the dawn of our exile."

"His _journal?_ "

"Yes Lord Vader. It was mine and now I am passing it down to you. Read it, take from it only what you need, as I did."

"Thank you my master," he replied, bowing his helmeted head.

"Now, you have an appointment to keep, do you not?"

"Yes master." How could he forget? After receiving Malgus's journal, his physical was the last place he wanted to be. But still, he needed to go. The power cells in his chest were already starting to deteriorate and his serum had run out yesterday. He couldn't afford to put it off any longer.

"Then go. See to your health, you are no good to me broken."

"As you wish." He bowed once more before whirling on his heel and striding for the exit. Just as he reached the door, his master called back out to him.

"Lord Vader."

He spun to face him.

"Inform your wife that I will be in to discuss her re-appointment shortly."

And there it was. The underhanded, stinging slap across the face that he had been expecting. He owned them both now, there was no escaping it. Somehow he had to get Padmè out while he was in for his check-up, but where could he send her? Who could he trust to look after her while he was unable to? "Yes my master."

With a flourish of his cape, he strode through the door and disappeared down the passage.

When he reached his quarters, Padmè was no longer in his hyperbaric chamber. She must have woken up while he was with his master. Heading into the bedroom, he paused by the doorframe and listened to the rush of running water coming from the fresher. Unable to resist, he snuck over, leant on the threshold and folded his arms, casually watching as she washed herself. Her hair was so long now, hanging down over her back and finishing just on the curve of her hips. Her body was covered in thick foamy bubbles, the water creating tiny streams amongst them.

How he longed to be able to join her. To run his hands up and down every sensual curve, sliding over her slippery skin while he held her close. He sighed, realizing those days were now long gone. Never again would he be able to spontaneously surprise her in the shower; with his chest implant and prosthetics, such things were impossible.

She slowly turned in his direction, her big hazel eyes gleaming in the bright light. There was a distinct sadness in her smile, one that echoed the sudden ache in his chest.

"I suppose it's not possible for you to join me, is it?" she asked.

Again, he sighed. "I'm afraid not."

Rinsing the soap from her body, she turned off the shower and squeezed the water from her hair, twisting it until the drops ceased to fall. Grabbing her towel from the rail, he stepped forward and held it out to her.

"Thank you," she said, taking it from him and starting to dry off. "I missed you this morning."

"I had work to do," he said flatly, folding his arms.

Wrapping the towel around her, she twisted her hair up into a messy bun, and padded toward him. "Did he call you again?"

"Yes." He leant back on the doorframe, fighting his sudden desire to drag her back inside his chamber for a re-enactment of last night.

Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, she stared up into his mask. "What did he want this time?"

He dropped his gaze to the floor. "I don't wish to discuss it."

"That bad?" She reached out and gently stroked his folded arms, keeping her eyes fixed on his lenses.

"You could say that."

"Did you tell him that I agreed to return to the Senate?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

His gaze returned to her. "Nothing of importance."

She sighed. "Are you hurt? You seem dreadfully quiet."

He turned away and thudded into the bedroom, taking a seat on the bed with his back toward her. She was intent on getting him to talk about it, but he wasn't ready. He didn't want her to know what he'd just been through. How his mind was now a garbled mess of broken thoughts and disjointed images. That there were still dull aches and shooting pains ricocheting inside his head, strangling his senses and throwing off his balance.

"Anakin?"

He growled. "Just drop it Padmè."

"I'm just worried about you. Please, won't you tell me what's wrong?"

He toyed with the buckles on his glove, undoing them and then re-doing them, trying to curtail his irritation. "It will only upset you, so don't worry about it. Just let it go."

She sat down beside him on the bed, dropping her hands together in her lap and staring blankly at the floor. "Alright," she whispered. "But I won't always back down on this, you know that. For this to work, we both need to talk to each other. And that means more than just single word answers and irritated grunts."

"Are you finished?" he groaned.

"No, but it can wait." She stood up and headed for the wardrobe, rummaging through her clothes for something to wear. "Anakin?"

"Yes Padmè?"

"I would love to be able to get some new clothes. I hardly feel like any of these outfits suit me anymore." Holding a burgundy gown, she draped it across her front and spun to face him on the bed. "I mean ... look at this."

He glanced over his shoulder. "What's wrong with it?"

"I'm not that woman anymore Anakin. Too much has happened. I – I just don't feel comfortable putting these on. It feels like I'm trying to pretend that nothing has changed. That ... _I_ haven't changed."

"I don't understand what you mean."

She huffed, hanging the dress back up and continuing to rummage through the wardrobe. "I mean that ... when I wore these dresses, I was a happy wife and mother to be. Now ..." She let her words trail off, disappearing into thought.

He stood up and thudded toward her, coming to a stop by the wardrobe entrance. "Now _what?_ "

Tears glistened in her eyes and she sucked back a whimper. "Now I'm lost. I'm empty. It just hurts so much, Ani. All of it. I can't stop thinking about them, about how much we're missing."

He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "I will find them Padmè. I promise you." He tried to keep his tone flat but failed miserably, unable to disguise the simmering anger rising inside him.

She cried into his suit, wrapping her arms beneath his cape and holding him tight.

He let her cry, rubbing small comforting circles on her back and holding her close. He wanted to fix it. To will their children from whatever corner of the galaxy they were hidden in and into his chamber. If only the force worked like that. She needed something to distract her, something to take her mind off their absence. "Do you love me Padmè?" he asked.

She yanked her head back and stared up into his lenses. "What?" she choked.

His voice dropped to a raspy rumble. "Do you love me?"

"What sort of a question is that? I've already told you that I do. Why do you keep asking me?"

She tried to pull away, but he kept her close. "I just need to be sure."

"Why?"

"I need to know that ... if I let you leave here, you will come back to me. That you won't disappear and not return."

Her eyes suddenly went wide. So much was wrong with what he just said, but she knew he was struggling with whatever he was trying to say. "If you let me leave? As in leave the palace? Without you?"

"Yes. I need to know that you'd come back. That you wouldn't make me go searching the galaxy looking for you."

"Of course I'd come back. Are you saying that you'll let me out of here?"

"I'm saying that I am _considering_ it. Of course Commander Appo would be going with you, for your protection."

She smiled up at him, blinking the remaining tears from her eyes. "But why now? What's changed?"

He sighed, dipping his head to look into her eyes. "I have, Angel. Besides, I think it would do you some good to get out of here for a while. You could go shopping for some new clothes, I'll even give you my credit-chip, there's more on there than you could spend in a lifetime."

"Oh Ani, really? You really mean it?"

"Yes Padmè. I'll comm Commander Appo and tell him to report here. Just let me organize a few things first."

She threw her arms back around his chest and squeezed him tight. "Thank you for this. You don't know how much it means to me."

He smiled behind the mask, happy to see her excited about something again. The longer he looked at her, the more he liked the idea, but she would do better if she had someone she could talk to. His troopers weren't overly conversational at the best of times, at least not to civilians. Perhaps he could find her a female companion, a woman she could bounce off of, and get ideas from. He didn't exactly have a supply of handmaidens roaming the palace, but perhaps there was someone else he could trust.

He gently extracted himself from her embrace and stepped back. "I need to contact the Commander, I'll return shortly."

"Sure, do what you need to do. Meanwhile I'll get dressed."

He left the bedroom, his cape flapping and his boots thudding off into the distance.

* * *

IMPERIAL PALACE: MEDICAL CENTRE

"He knows the test won't be accurate, doesn't he?" Aleria asked, setting up their gear on the trolley. "We told him seven days, not five."

"I don't know, all I know is that he seemed very insistent. Besides I'm not about to argue with the Emperor."

Celeste was inspecting the new restraining supports they'd just had installed, unlike the others, these were reinforced with new cuffs capable of detaining force-sensitives. She checked them for stability, pushing down on them with all her body weight. Satisfied with their attachment to the bed, she checked the health monitors and oxygen system to see they were both prepped and ready for use.

"Don't you think he's been through enough as it is? I mean, underneath that armour, he's still just a man," Aleria said, looking over the test schedule. They had another ten different procedures to complete, and she wasn't particularly looking forward to doing any of them.

The brunette looked up from the monitors and pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. "He's not _just_ a man, Aleria. You almost sound like you feel sorry for him. Have you forgotten what the Emperor said the other day?"

She dropped her gaze to the floor. "No, I haven't forgotten."

Folding her arms, Celeste put down her clipboard and stood tall. "He's a mindless killing machine. If he didn't need us to keep his body functioning we'd already be dead by now. Find someone who is actually worthy of your _sympathy,_ for Lord Vader certainly isn't."

"Why do you hate him so much?"

Celeste moved the supply trolley into position and stared at it. "I think the real question is, why _don't_ you?"

A loud beeping permeated the air, originating from a small communicator sitting on the bench. Aleria quickly scooped it up and accepted the call.

" _Aleria, come to my chambers. I need to speak with you."_

"Yes, Lord Vader."

Cocking her brow and storming over, Celeste glared at her assistant. "So you're making house calls now?"

She shrugged her shoulders, stuffing the com into her coat pocket. "Who am I to argue? Any way, I guess I'll be back shortly."

* * *

 _IMPERIAL PALACE: DARTH VADER'S CHAMBERS_

The redhead doctor was nervous, he could sense her fear the instant she rounded the corridor bend outside. Commander Appo opened the door, stepping to the side and gesturing for her to come in.

With a trooper standing at each side, Vader folded his arms and listened to the force, trying to get a read on her reaction. Her heart-rate was slightly elevated and her breathing short. Stopping before him and his men in the foyer, she glanced up at him briefly before dropping her green eyes to his feet.

"You called for me, my lord?" she asked.

"Indeed I did, Aleria."

• • •

 _Am I doing the right thing?_

 _What if she doesn't come back?_

 _What if she tries to escape?_

The dark lord's heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the steady beat of his boots on the marble. His flapping cloak casts a looming shadow behind him as he nears the doors for the theatre. The corridor lights flicker and bounce off his polished black body armour.

He'd felt the sincerity in the doctor's thoughts toward him, sensing her initial shock at the revelation of him having a wife when he introduced her to Padmè. It mirrored his own shock at discovering her unexpected loyalty to him over his master. A discovery he was still trying to understand.

Waving the duraglass doors open, he strode inside, seeing a very perplexed Celeste standing with her hands braced upon her hips.

"I take it Aleria won't be joining us?" she asked, raising her brow.

He eyed over the new restraints fitted to the bed and cocked his hairless brow behind the mask. _So this is how it's going to be is it? She's going to chain me down this time._ He allowed his respirator to cycle in and out before responding to her veiled accusation. "I sent her away on an errand," he growled.

The brunette huffed and picked up the test schedule, familiarizing herself with the procedures. "I see," she said. "Very well, as soon as you're ready, we can begin."

He stripped down, laying the different pieces of his suit over the armchair by the wall. Celeste was angry with her assistant's absence, he could feel it radiating through the force. Draping his body suit over the seat, he turned and sat down on the bed, keeping his back to the doctor.

"Place both legs into the stirrups, and lay down. You're going to be here for a while."

He gritted his teeth and did as she asked, shooting her back a cold glare. When his head was down he rasped in a shallow breath and closed his eyes. "I assumed as much."

He heard the familiar clank and thud of the med-droids closing in around him. Four of them surrounded the bed, each one securing his restraints, chaining him down. Celeste draped the soft sheet over his waist and he could feel her eyes staring at him. Moving to his head, she placed the oxygen mask over his face and he lifted up to allow her to secure it in place.

"Try and take slow, deep and steady breaths," she said, turning the tanks on.

He opened his eyes to watch her as she started to connect the electrodes to his chest panel. The rush of air in the mask almost deafened him, the rumble obscuring all other noise in the room. "Are you attempting to sedate me doctor?" he grumbled, the odd smell assaulting his senses.

She didn't look up, her eyes focused on finding the vein in his flesh and blood arm to hook up the drip. "I have been instructed to anesthetize you. If you resist the gas, I have other means of ensuring you go under, Lord Vader."

He groaned again turning his eyes back to the blinding fluorescent lights overhead. "You are enjoying this, aren't you Celeste? You get off on torturing me."

A devious smile flashed across her face as her dark brown eyes met his. "What makes you say that, my lord?"

He closed his eyes, feeling the stab of the needle breaching his skin. "The force tells me all I need to know. Do what you will to me, it makes little difference. I am accustomed to pain."

Turning on the IV she checked the lines for tangles before connecting them to his vein. "You might be accustomed to pain, but let me assure you," she said, slowly leaning down to whisper into his ear, "you _scream_ just the same."

His flaming eyes flew open, glaring at her from the pillow as she chuckled and moved to his feet. "I was going to wait until you had dropped off before doing this, but seeing that you're in such a _playful_ mood, I don't see the point."

His vision started to go, blurring in and out, the bright light pulsating overhead. Amidst the rush of gas in his mask, he heard the two doors open, a dark shadow slithering its way toward him. His master drew closer, stopping just beside his mechanical hand in the restraint.

"I went to your chamber to see your wife," he hissed, his claw-like hands hanging limp at his waist. "Imagine my surprise when I discovered her to be missing."

Vader clenched his hands, gripping the supports so tight the knuckles on his flesh hand went white. "She wanted to update her wardrobe for her return to office," he groaned, trying to make out his master's face from the spinning lights. Dark clouds were creeping in from the sides, creating a reverse halo, making any ability to focus even more challenging.

"You allowed her to leave?"

"Yes master. Commander Appo and Aleria are escorting her."

"Ah. A minor inconvenience, but I can wait."

His vision was rapidly getting worse, now only able to make out large patches of light and dark. The room was spinning. He could feel something pressing against him. A cold hard sensation, below his waist.

"You're going to experience a bit of discomfort. Try and relax, it will make it easier," Celeste called out from the foot of the bed.

 _Relax? What is she doing?_ He couldn't focus. The gas was numbing his senses. He tried to speak but all that came out was an assortment of incoherent grumbling. His eyes sprung open when he felt it, the sudden cold hard push of something invading him. Unbidden, a raspy ear-piercing scream tore from his lips and a salty tear slipped from his glowing amber eyes.

Staring at the shadow sitting beside him, he tried to focus on his face, the image strobing in and out of darkness.

"You haven't figured it out yet, have you, my apprentice?" his voice echoed from the distance.

He tried to respond but couldn't find the words. Fighting the urge to succumb to the darkness and trying to ignore the unnerving sensation buzzing inside him, he focused on his master's purring voice.

"Call this my insurance policy, should anything go wrong."

 _Insurance policy? What the kriff is he on about?_ His heart started to race, thumping in time to his fading eyesight. He felt his master's body-heat radiating from just below his ear, his breath on his scarred skin setting his nerves alight.

"Should you and Padmè fail to conceive, I shall take matters into my own hands Lord Vader. And together we can bring into the world a true _'child of the sith'._ One untarnished by the Jedi and their pathetic ideals."

 _WHAT?!_ His inner voice screamed. He tugged on the restraints and gasped in shock, his lungs suddenly filling with the gas. Then the darkness descended, finally taking him down with it.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Some of you suspected old Palpy's intentions and now we all know.

Thanks to **RyuuShadow** , **Sfloresf** and **vanellopeeee** for your reviews.

I hope you are all enjoying it, if you are, or if you have an idea as to where it goes please drop me a review, they always make me smile.

MTFBWY


	24. Chapter 22: Confirma Cecidit

**Chapter 22: Confirma Cecidit**

 _CORUSCANT: MONUMENT PLAZA_

Excited. Nervous. Anxious. Concerned. Following Commander Appo down the shuttle ramp, Padmè wrestled with herself. On the one hand she was looking forward to some long overdue retail therapy. But on the other, she was riddled with concern for Anakin.

His demeanour when she left his chamber was different to normal – if she could call it normal. He was too quiet. And the fact that he was more than willing to get her out of the palace for the day had definitely raised her suspicions. The whole situation made her stomach churn. She knew he had his medical scheduled for today but something was off. It just didn't feel right.

"Is everything alright Lady Vader?" Commander Appo asked, holding his armoured hand out to assist her.

She looked up to see his Commander standing at the foot of the ramp. "I'm sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?"

He nodded his white and blue helmet. "Lady Vader, you look pale. Is everything alright? Did you want to return to the palace?"

Right. Lady Vader. That's who she was to them. Not Padmè Amidala former queen and Senator for Naboo. Not Mrs Skywalker, wife of the Jedi.

But ... _Lady ... Vader._

Those two simple words rang around in her head, bouncing back and forth, reminding her of just how the galaxy would see her from now on. The wife of her infamous Sith Lord of a husband. The same man she just couldn't seem to stop worrying about at this particular point in time.

Donning her old regal tone, she straightened her posture and composed herself. "Everything is fine, thank you Commander," she said, taking his hand and stepping down onto the stone paving.

Looking up at the towering skyscrapers surrounding them, she suddenly felt dizzy, the tops of the buildings starting to spin. Letting go of the trooper's hand she dropped her head into hers and swayed in place.

"My lady, are you okay?" Aleria asked, grabbing her arm, her soft voice edged with concern.

"I – I think so. Just a little light-headed that's ..." She gasped and buckled over, unable to finish her sentence. An excruciating pain suddenly erupted in her abdomen, winding her. She felt like she'd just been stabbed or punched by someone.

"My lady _please_ , what's the matter?" Aleria begged, trying to hold her steady. "Are you hurt?"

Tears trickled from her eyes as she gasped for breath, clutching at her stomach. "I – I don't know what's going on. I've never experienced anything quite like this before," she choked.

Aleria and Commander Appo exchanged glances, knowing very well what Vader would do to them both if anything were to happen to her. He'd made it explicitly clear before they left his chamber.

"My lady, I think it would be best if we escorted you back to the palace. You seem unwell," Appo said, calling his men to his side.

"No, no ... it's fine Commander, really. I just need a moment," she said, trying to breathe through it. The pain was already starting to subside, with each breath getting easier and becoming less of a struggle. Taking two more deep breaths, she stood up and tidied her hair, tucking the wayward strands behind her ears. "There," she said, looking between her protectors, "it's already gone. I'm probably just hungry. I _may_ have forgotten to eat before we left."

"Are you sure you don't want to go back? It's no trouble," the trooper asked.

She folded her arms and stood firm, finally feeling more like herself again. "I thank you for your concern Commander, but really, I'm fine. Let's get going."

Striding forward, she took a moment to look around at what used to be one of her favourite shopping plazas. To her relief it hadn't changed. The four conical towers were still there, surrounding the magical water-feature dancing in the centre. The stone paved floor was as pristine as she remembered and all of the shops and restaurants were still trading, continuing on with business as usual. It was as if nothing had changed, when in reality _everything_ had changed.

The once grand and prestigious Republic was gone, democracy replaced by dictatorship. Everyone's life was now in the wrinkly dead hands of her husband's master, her once-called friend and colleague, the now self-proclaimed Emperor of the Galaxy.

"So, where would you like to go first, my lady?" Aleria asked, moving up to walk alongside her.

Padmè looked around the plaza, unsure of where to begin. She wanted some new clothes; dresses, tunics, pants, anything really. Something that reflected the reality of her current situation and not her past. She turned her eyes to the redhead doctor beside her. "Honestly Aleria, I have no idea," she whispered. "I was hoping to be able to find some new outfits. Some a little more suitable than my old wardrobe."

The doctor smiled. "I know of a few good dress shops, how about we start there?"

"That sounds perfect, thank you."

The two women crossed the open-air plaza grounds and headed into the shopping precinct, followed by Commander Appo and his men.

* * *

 _TATOOINE: JUNDLAND WASTES: LARS HOMESTEAD_

"Master Kenobi, is everything alright? You look like you just saw a ghost," Jaina asked, crossing her legs and staring up at him from the rug.

Stroking his beard, Obi-wan stared blankly ahead, not fully aware of his surroundings. After seeing Beru and Owen off to bed for the night, he had settled in on the sofa for some quiet meditation, hoping to clear his troubled mind. When his focus was interrupted by a disturbing intrusion.

He'd felt him – actually _felt_ Anakin – through the force. Somehow, they'd connected, their minds converging across the plains. The anger that radiated from his presence had sent chills through every fibre of his body.

"I suppose, in a way, I just did," he muttered, slowly turning to meet her gaze. He rose from his seat and dragged his hand through his hair, shaking his head. "I'm going for some air." Trudging out into the cold night, he stopped by the central vaporator and folded his arms, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robe.

Somehow, it was easier living in silence, never knowing if Anakin was truly alive or not. But now, he could no longer pretend. He'd felt him. For the briefest of moments, they'd made contact, and it _hurt_. Hurt more than the uncertainty and more than the questioning.

Stars twinkled in the night sky, bright white lights shimmering in the darkness. An icy wind whipped at his robe. Wiping the tear from his eye, he sighed, feeling more alone than ever before.

"You know you'll eventually have to face him Obi-wan."

Qui-gon's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned his head to see the ethereal master standing by his side. "I know," he whispered.

"There are alternatives to fighting."

Obi-wan sighed once more. "I don't want to fight him again. But what if he gives me no choice?"

"Things are not always black and white, Obi-wan. In life there are no absolutes."

Covering his face with his hand, he tried to banish the traumatic visions of Mustafar from his mind. "Only a _Sith_ deals in absolutes," he muttered.

"Is that not in itself an absolute?"

"What?"

The late master rested his translucent hand upon his old padawan's shoulder and stared into his stormy grey eyes.

"You will find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view. The Jedi order and their teachings were no different.

In the times to come you will be faced with circumstances that challenge your learnt understandings. Challenges that will make you ultimately question everything the order has conditioned you to believe. It is then, up to you to listen – not to your schooling, not to the textbooks, not to the ways of the Jedi – but to the living force, Obi-wan. To what _it_ is trying to tell you."

The weary Jedi shook his head in confusion. "Surely you're not saying that you condone his actions?"

"Sometimes for us to understand the decisions of another, we must first understand the motives behind them."

" _Qui-gon?_ " He looked around in despair, seeing his late master slowly vanish into the night. "Wait! How will I know what to do?"

His whispering voice echoed in the dark as if drifting on the icy breeze. "Listen to the will of the force, Obi-wan."

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE: MEDICAL CENTRE_

 _Where am I?_

The burnt sienna sands shift around my boots and the violent winds pull at my cloak. The landscape looks dead. Crumbling ruins drenched in more of the rust coloured dirt, rise jagged above the desolate horizon, surrounded by shifting dark clouds, raging in the blood sky.

Folding my arms, I stare at the decrepit structure before me. It's as if it's been carved directly into the foot of the mountains, a winding valley leading to its heavily shadowed base.

It calls to me and I lumber forward, each thumping strike of my stride echoing inside my head. Glancing up at the towering pinnacles surrounding me, I can't help but feel disoriented; unable to decide if the glowing orb hung in the sky is a moon or distant sun, its dull beams shifting in and between the malevolent cloud cover.

 _I don't recognize this place._

Nearing the overshadowed base, I come to a halt, a sudden urge to scream overwhelming me. Statues, as old as time itself, stand before me. Ravaged by the harsh terrain, yet unyielding to their fate. They all look the same; robed figures, heads hung low and hands steepled together as if in prayer.

 _The dark side is strong here._

The power this place exudes is unlike any I've ever encountered. Almost like it _is_ the force; its center ... its beginning ... its end. It is both breathtakingly beautiful and hauntingly terrifying all at once.

"Lord Vader."

The deep rumbling voice shatters my thoughts and I turn in place, suddenly joined by two shadowy figures approaching from behind. They saunter toward me, slowly becoming easier to distinguish as they draw closer.

"Darth Malgus," I answer, my robotic voice still unfamiliar to my own ears. "Am I ... am I _dead_?"

"No."

He and his mistress, the Twi'lek Eleena, stop before me. Malgus in his armoured body suit and respirator; Eleena in her shielded corset and figure-hugging jumpsuit.

"What is the meaning of this? Where am I?" I demand.

The ghostly Sith folds his arms and looks upon the barren landscape, an odd expression of fondness on his face. "This is Korriban."

" _Korriban?_ I'm not familiar with it."

"No, it goes by another name in your time. You would know it as _Moraband._ "

Scanning the horizon through my mask, the temple strangely glows red, as if confirming the statement. "Moraband ..." I repeat, more to myself than anyone else, "the home world of the Sith."

"Yes, and that is the temple," Malgus affirms, his hand gesturing up ahead to the grand statues.

"How did I get here?"

His glowing eyes turn to me. "This is but a vision; a dream if you will. It is the only way we can commune at present."

"I see." I look back at the temple, resting my hands in my belt and listening to the sounds of our respirators hissing. After a few moments silence I've finally had enough. "Why have you brought me here Malgus?"

He throws me a knowing nod and starts onwards, striding for the temple entrance. "Come Lord Vader, we have much to discuss."

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: MONUMENT PLAZA_

Padmè and Aleria stepped outside of the boutique, handing their bags to the two troopers accompanying Commander Appo. The first dress shop was nice, but the garments were too _happy_. Their bright colours resembling more of what she would've worn back in the days before the tragedy. Hardly the type she was now looking for.

"After seeing your reaction to the gowns in there, I think I know just the place to find what you're looking for my lady," Aleria said, guiding her forward.

"I don't think even I know what I'm looking for, Aleria. I'm hoping I'll just know it when I see it." Padmè sighed, pushing her braid over her shoulder and trudging forward. She couldn't stop thinking about Anakin, hoping that he was alright.

She felt sick knowing that he was at the mercy of that monster of a master of his, but knew there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. He was the one who had to _want_ to leave. Nothing she could do would convince him otherwise.

It made her wonder, _why would anyone want to willingly be around Palpatine?_ She turned to the redhead beside her. "Aleria, how did you end up working for the Emperor?" she asked.

The doctor smiled. "It was because of my father really," she said.

"Oh, how so?"

They walked down a brightly lit corridor and continued forward, passing shop window after window.

"Well, my father works as a Senate official. He and Palpatine have known each other since he was the Senator for Naboo, while Chancellor Valorum was still in office."

Chancellor Valorum, now there was a name she hadn't heard in many years. If she'd have known back then what Palpatine was planning, there is no way she would've cast that vote of no confidence. "Go on."

"Roughly a week or so after Chancellor Palpatine became Emperor, he and my father bumped into each other. He asked after our family ..." Aleria glanced around the corridor, looking for the right place. She led them down the next passage also lined with more shops. "When dad told him about how I'd just graduated from my studies, he was suddenly very interested, insisting that we meet."

Padmè glanced over at her, her eyebrows tweaked in curiosity. "What did you study?"

Aleria smiled again, this one filled with memory and significance. "I finished in the top percentile of my class, majoring in Experimental Treatments and Cybernetic Technologies. I wanted to be able to help the war victims."

"No wonder he was interested."

She nodded. "Of course, I was flattered by his attention. I mean, how often does a simple medical student get the chance to work specifically for the new Emperor?"

Staring at the floor Padmè nodded in response. "Yes, I suppose I can see your point."

"About one standard week into my new appointment at the palace, I met Lord Vader, and everything suddenly became clearer." She stopped by the last window and spun on her heel to face her. "Actually, I've been wondering ... how did you and Lord Vader become husband and wife? I mean, before all of this, I'd never even heard of him."

That caught Padmè off-guard and she skidded to a stop. "You mean to tell me, that with all of his health history on file, neither you nor Doctor Celeste know _who_ he is?" she choked.

She shook her head. "No, my lady. We had to ascertain his credentials before we could commence treatment. There were no blood history records of any kind. We were flying blind."

"Had they been erased or something?"

Aleria shrugged her shoulders. "I have no idea. We just assumed he was from the Outer-rim or something. Just another off-worlder."

"I see," Padmè muttered, looking down at her hands and fumbling her fingers. "Well, as far as _our marriage_ is concerned ..." she let her words trail off and turned to stare in the shop window. "It is a rather long and tragic story. One I would prefer not to go into at present."

Stepping up to stand alongside her, Aleria gently rested her hand upon her shoulder. "Look, please forgive me if this seems out of place."

Padmè turned her teary eyes toward her, paying careful attention to the distance between them and the three troopers.

"But you obviously care a great deal about him, you've been distant since the moment we left his chambers."

She nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Of course I do, he's my husband. He wasn't always this way, and even now I see tiny snippets of the man he used to be. The man I married. I love him."

"Well, if you truly love the man inside the suit, then you should do everything in your power to get him away from the Emperor. The way he's treating him it's ... it's not right."

Anger. That's all she felt at this moment. A gut churning, fist clenching, raw anger that suddenly swept over her. Her eyebrows furrowed deep. "What do you mean? What is he doing to him?"

Aleria took a subtle step back, shocked by her sudden outburst. Now she could see the family resemblance, the raging fury apparently not only limited to her dark lord husband. "I saw the procedure schedule for today. He's not going to be happy when he finally wakes up. Honestly, I'll be surprised if Celeste even survives this round."

Padmè glared through the shop window trying to control herself, her mind in turmoil over what they could possibly be doing to Anakin. "I think I want to get this over with, so I can get back to him. He doesn't need any more blood on his hands," she snapped.

One of the dresses hanging at the back of the store suddenly caught her eye. It was exactly the sort of thing she was looking for. "I think I've found something," she said, storming to the door and barging inside.

Chasing after her, the redhead doctor followed Padmè into the shop, passed the racks and into the back, stopping beside her.

The dress was striking. All black, with a corseted bustier lined with tiny obsidian crystals that shimmered in the spotlights. The front of the dress draped to the floor with a long train, decorated with red and black crystal shards, all embroidered with shining black thread.

"This one," Padmè said, running her fingers along the silken fabric. "It's perfect."

The shop keeper hurried over, a tall svelte looking woman with thick framed glasses and black hair slicked into a tight bun. "Can I help you with something?"

Her voice was harsh and condescending, and it immediately got on Padmè's nerve. She snapped her head toward her and folded her arms over her tunic. "I would like to try this on for size."

The woman glanced between the dress and the two women. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to try something a little more ... _affordable_?"

Aleria was gobsmacked by the woman's gall, folding her arms and puffing her chest. But what surprised her more was Padmè's reaction. She didn't flinch at the comment or even react at first. No, instead she took a deep breath and calmly exited the store, stopping in front of the window for a moment. When she returned, Commander Appo and his men were behind her, flanking her just as they would her husband. She smiled in admiration.

Padmè stood tall with the troopers at her sides. "Now, if you would be so kind, I would like to try the dress on," she stated in her regent tone.

The shopkeeper choked back a cough and nodded obligingly. "Why yes, right this way, my lady," she stammered.

"Oh and shopkeeper, while you're at it, I'd also like to see what others you have of this calibre, along with a black hooded cloak and a variety of elbow length gloves."

"Right away, please go inside and I'll bring them to you at once."

Aleria and Padmè's eyes met briefly, a quick exchange of well-dones, before she disappeared into the back dressing room and closed the door.

Commander Appo stepped closer to the doctor and dropped his hands to rest at his back. "She seems to be adjusting rather well, don't you think?" he stated, nodding to the dressing room.

Aleria smiled up at him, kicking her hip out. "Yes, I can see why he likes her."

"She almost had _me_ scared for a moment."

The redhead chuckled. "She used to be a Queen, you know that don't you?"

His helmet spun to face her. "A Queen? Can't say I'm surprised, but of where?"

Aleria brushed her hair behind her ear, not taking her eyes off the dressing room for a second. "Of Naboo, the same planet the Emperor is from. If I remember correctly she was also one of the Senators in office before the fall of the Republic."

"Well, that explains a lot. Now that you mention it, I do remember her, she used to know the General quite well."

She nodded. "I tell you what Commander, if it came down to a choice between Vader and Padmè or the Emperor, I know whose side I'd rather be on."

"Quiet now. Keep that kind of talk for back at the palace. You never know who's listening," Appo scolded, watching as the dressing room door opened.

Padmè stepped out, the long gown a perfect fit, flowing along the floor with her careful stride. She straightened her hands down the front and paused before her group, looking up at them questioningly. "Well Aleria, what do you think?" she asked.

The doctor smiled, glancing between the dark lord's wife and his Commander. "I think it's perfect," she replied.

Appo nodded. "Yes my lady, fit for a Queen."

She walked over to the mirror and stared at her reflection. "Not a Queen Commander, but maybe a Lady."

Aleria stepped behind her and bent forward to whisper in her ear, quietly enough so only she could hear. "And perhaps maybe some day ... an _Empress_."

Padmè cocked her brow and turned her head toward her slightly, unsure of where that comment had come from. She took a deep breath and sighed as the shopkeeper moved in around them.

"I have the perfect hair-piece for that dress, if you are interested," the woman offered, holding a black crystal encrusted crown, with a long ebony chiffon veil attached to the back. She leant over and tucked it into her hair, splaying the fabric down along her back. "Now, it is complete."

Padmè's features hardened at her reflection. She turned and nodded to the shopkeeper, stepping away from the mirror and heading for the dressing room. "I'll take it. Along with the others and the cloak."

She disappeared back into the room to change, then returned to the shopkeeper preparing her order. The woman glanced up over her glasses and swallowed.

"And how would you be paying for this, my lady?" the woman asked from behind the till.

"Put it on this," Padmè stated, holding her head high and passing her husband's credit chip over.

She took the chip and placed it into the socket, nearly choking on her breath when she saw the name come up on the screen. "I – I ... ah, does he know you have this?" she coughed.

"Yes." Padmè glanced behind to see Commander Appo and his men moving to stand protectively at her back. She smiled, enjoying the woman's sudden awkwardness. "Now, are there any more questions?"

Her hands shook terribly as she tried to finalize the transaction, suddenly unable to look Padmè in the eyes. Handing the credit chip and the receipts over, she kept her eyes down and nodded.

Commander Appo retrieved the bags and turned to Padmè and Aleria.

"Thank you for your service," Padmè said, walking for the door, slightly disturbed by how much she enjoyed seeing the ignorant woman squirm.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE: MEDICAL CENTER_

The inside of the Sith Temple is just as derelict as the outside; aged walls, statues looming around every corner and column-like stone plinths holding countless busts and odd artefacts. Malgus and Eleena walk ahead, guiding me through the ancient ruins. Their closeness is unmistakable.

Our footsteps echo off the crumbling walls, resounding through the stale air like a steady beating drum, loud enough in the silence to disturb the dead. Glowing amber eyes linger in the shadows, following us as we traverse the grand sweeping corridors to wherever it is we are heading.

The vision ... dream ... or whatever this is, feels so real. They keep talking to each other, but I can't hear what they're saying, their voices mingling with the haunted winds swirling through the dimly lit halls.

We reach the end of the last corridor and stop in a massive chamber, filled with more of the hooded statues from outside. Malgus gestures for me to join them and I follow, trudging forward until I'm standing beside them.

"This is the sacrificial chamber. Many a Jedi have met their fate in this room," he says, pointing to the podium in the center quadrangle.

"Indeed." I fold my arms and look around the chamber. "You haven't answered my question, Malgus. _Why_ have you brought me here?"

He turns to me, eyeing me over before staring into my lenses. "What do you know of the Sith?"

His question makes me hesitate. The Sith gain understanding through power, use their passions for strength and focus inwards, only on self. Negative emotions feed the dragon that is the dark side, fuelling the wielder's connection to the force.

"My knowledge is somewhat limited," I answer.

It isn't a lie, deep down I know in myself it's the truth. Sidious tells me just enough to keep me curious, yet not enough to enable me to overpower him. He is just like the Jedi in that sense; afraid of my abilities and determined to control me.

"Have you heard of the term Sith'ari?" he asks.

"No."

He strides forward, circling the podium, his long cloak floating in the dead air behind him.

"It was foretold, thousands of years ago, that the Sith'ari would destroy the Sith, only for them to be reborn; stronger, more powerful and united with purpose. Many have believed themselves to be worthy of the title, only to fail in their final hour."

His voice is reflective, as if lost in thought. Whirling around, he folds his arms and stares at me.

"But I believe, where they failed, Lord Vader, _you_ will succeed. You will fulfil the prophecy."

Not this again. Clearly this ancient Sith has no idea of my past. How I was originally proclaimed to be the so-called 'Chosen One' by the Jedi, destined to bring _balance_ to the force. Even now I find the concept confusing. Does balance not mean equal parts?

My respirator hisses, drowning out all other distinguishable sound. KHOOSH – PUUHR ... KHOOSH – PUUHR ... KHOOSH – PUUHR. First the saviour of the Jedi ... and now the Sith. Yet inside I feel nothing of the sort. A shattered fragment of the man I used to be, a bare shadow of the once illustrious Jedi and a mere servant to the darkness.

I drop my gaze to the floor. "I think you are mistaken," I finally reply, my foreign artificial voice grating on my nerve.

A low growling type rumble radiates from him, cutting through the now awkward silence. "You have the ability to become the most powerful Sith Overlord in the history of the order Vader. If you will only acknowledge it," he scolds.

"I am _nothing_ but a slave, confined to a walking prison, marred by past and present failures. Your emphatic words cannot alter the truth." I've had enough of the conversation, suddenly overwhelmed by the most crippling sensation of self-pity and self-loathing. Turning in place, I begin to walk away, unable to listen any more.

He yells out to me as I go to leave, his voice a deafening roar. "You cannot escape your destiny _Skywalker!_ If you turn your back on me, like you have so many before me, you will forever live in fear and agony. Constantly waiting for the day, when Sidious moves in to take your wife from you once and for all!"

I whirl to face him, my cape flapping in the sudden violent gusts yanking at me. "WHAT CAN I DO? I CAN'T STOP HIM, HE'S TOO POWERFUL ... I – I CAN'T DEFEAT HIM!" The vocoder crackles and vibrates under the strain of my scream and my clenched fists tremble with rage. "MY BODY IS BROKEN! MY MIND IS CONFLICTED, AND NO MATTER HOW HARD I FIGHT IT ... I AM CONSTANTLY PLAGUED BY THE BLASTED LIGHT INSIDE ME THAT _REFUSES_ TO DIE!"

My lungs are burning, the painful outcry draining me of all will to continue. The winds drop, the crimson sands slowly settling at my boots. Heaving breaths make my chest rise and fall agonizingly inside the suit, the searing pain almost unbearable.

Malgus strides forward, his gaze intense and unyielding. His presence is captivating, ensnaring my undivided attention in my unravelled state.

"Lord Vader ..." he starts, standing before me like a mentor trying to guide his charge. "It is the light remaining inside you that sets you apart. Its presence gives you the power to see all around you; not being blinded by the seclusion of the dark side. _You_ are the Sith'ari, not your master. You _will_ defeat him _if_ you follow my guidance."

Dipping my head down, I concede to defeat, willing to at least listen to his proposal. "What do I need to do?"

• • •

Darkness. I can hear the rasp of the oxygen mask and the incessant beeping of the monitors beside me. My heart is throbbing, pounding against my ribcage like it's trying to escape. The serum flows through my veins, the burning sensation setting my muscles on fire. Everything hurts, the flesh surrounding the control box in my chest, the stitches littering my scarred torso and the ache of my lower abdomen. My head is spinning from the anaesthetic, the blackened room twisting and turning around me.

 _How long have I been here? Where is everyone?_

Tugging on my arms, they jolt in response; the chains keeping me restrained. More of the serum pumps through the drip, scorching my veins and igniting my furnace heart. I can't think.

 _Padmè?_

The thought of her shakes me from my stupor and I start to panic, yanking furiously on the restraints. They hold firm, relentless in their imprisonment.

The bed starts to shake, the monitors beside me crashing to the floor, they wrench the tubes from my arm and I wince in agony.

"PADMÈ!?"

The dragon roars inside me, lifting up from the inferno and taking flight. Squeezing my eyes shut I bellow at the top of my lungs, channelling my anger through the force. The chains instantly shatter, panels collapse from the ceiling and cables dangle down arcing across each other, covering the room in wild blue sparks.

Pulling myself free from the wreckage, I discard the breathing mask, throwing it to the ground and stumble to the chair, gasping for air. Replacing the suit is a challenge, the after-effects of the anaesthetic still wreaking havoc on my senses. Tugging it up over my body, I stagger to the wall for support, trying to draw in enough oxygen to prevent myself from blacking out.

With each awkward movement I discover a new pain, one that wasn't obvious whilst lying on the bed. It takes all of my focus to simply remain upright, my vision drifting in and out.

The familiar and normally unwelcoming sound of my respirator engaging brings me comfort, and I pause momentarily to regain control. With each forced breath my anger grows stronger, clawing for some sort of release. I need to find her ... that insufferable excuse for a doctor. I can still hear her taunting me from beside the bed; can still feel the excruciating pain of whatever it was she rammed deep inside me.

How dare she! The gall of her! Relax, she said, it'll make it easier, she said. She's going to pay dearly for what she put me through.

Clenching my fists tight, I barge through the doors and leave the theatre, determined to exact my revenge. I seek out her presence, hunting her down from passageway to passageway.

Stopping outside two restricted blast doors, I wave them open and charge inside, using the force to silence my breathing. I haven't been in the lab before, so I'm not sure what it was I was expecting to see, but what I found had my feet rooted to the floor.

There were benches and tables covered with the typical lab equipment: microscopes, test tubes, beakers and the like. But in the case at the back sat rows upon rows of specimen jars of various sizes.

"Aleria, finally. I was wondering how long you'd be gone for," Celeste called from somewhere in the distance.

I don't respond, too interested in the samples on display. Calling one into my hand, it flies from the preservation case and I grasp it, turning it around to read the label. It contains a viscous liquid, only a small amount, but I know from the look of it, exactly what it is. I walk forward to inspect them closer; there had to be at least ten of the jars all dated with my name on each of them. I clench my fist in disgust.

"Aleria, can you give me a hand with this?"

My helmeted head snaps toward the direction of her voice, the sound of it making my blood boil. Placing the jar back down, I round the corner of the lab, seeing Celeste with her head buried in a microscope.

I release the force hold on my respirator and fold my arms, my hulking armoured body blocking her only escape. "Doctor," I snarl.

She startles from the sound of my voice and stumbles back, her eyes wide.

"L-lord Vader, I – I wasn't expecting you," she stammers.

I can sense her fear. The tumultuous waves rippling through the force. A white hot fury envelops me at the sight of her, those taunting words chanting inside my head. In one sudden, swift movement, I grab her by the throat and launch her across the lab, her catapulting body taking out most of the equipment along the way. She collides with the wall and crashes into a heap on the floor, her terrified eyes leaking as she fights to right herself.

I stalk toward her, my thunderous footsteps resounding throughout the room and vibrating the shattered glass littering the ground, the broken shards crunching beneath my boots. Shaking my head, I glare at her from within the mask. "You didn't _honestly_ think I'd let you get away with that, did you?" I hiss, grinding my teeth together.

She spits a glob of blood out onto the floor and glares up at me, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. "You can't kill me, Lord Vader. You need me."

Foolish woman. There are more than enough med-droids on hand to service my needs. To think that I would be reliant on one human doctor to survive is beyond insulting. Raising my hand, I use the force to lift her up into a choke-hold, pressing her back against the wall. Her feet kick and squirm as they dangle just off the ground. "That is where you are mistaken, _doctor._ I need no-one, least of all _you._ "

She grapples futilely at her throat, struggling against my unrelenting grip. I can feel her consciousness ebbing, the blood pooling around my iron grasp. It feels so deliciously perfect to watch her suffer, to feel the panic surging through her screaming veins.

"ANAKIN NO!"

Padmè's voice startles me and I turn to see her standing in the doorway, flanked by Commander Appo and Aleria. She looks genuinely horrified, her hands clapped over her mouth. My enjoyment at tormenting Celeste is now muddled by frustration. She called me by my birth name, in front of both the doctor _and_ my Commander. Glancing between the shocked intruders and my prey, I am suddenly at a loss for how to proceed.

" _General_?" Appo asks, the surprise clearly evident in his tone.

With a wave of my free hand, I slam the blast doors shut and lock them in, needing a minute to think. Meanwhile Celeste groans and chokes in my grip, still trying to save herself.

"Anakin, please let her go. You don't have to do this," Padmè pleads.

This time I don't look at her. She doesn't understand. I have to do this, I need – no, I _want –_ to do this. Clenching my fist, I squeeze her throat tighter, feeling and hearing the satisfying crunch and snap of her vertebrae as they finally give in to the pressure. I watch her eyes bulge and glaze over as the last hint of life departs her now shattered carcass.

With a growl, I drop her dead body unceremoniously to the floor and whirl to face them, folding my arms tight. My chest is heavy, the respirator struggling from the exertion. "Commander, gather your men and have them meet in the hangar."

"The hangar, my lord?"

"Yes. We're leaving." I turn to Padmè and Aleria, and take a deep breath. Disappointment is written all over her face, but I don't have the time or patience to deal with it at the moment. "Aleria, go to your quarters and pack your things, then meet me at my chambers. You're coming with us."

She nods. "Yes my lord."

"Padmè, come with me. We're leaving ... _now._ "

I wave the doors open and stride toward her, gently taking her wrist and ushering her out into the passage.

"Where are we going?" she asks, struggling to keep up.

"We're leaving the palace. It's not safe. You'll find out where, when we get there."


	25. Chapter 23: Consilium

**CHAPTER 23: CONSILIUM**

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE_

One by one, white Imperial Shuttles departed the palace, taking to the hectic Coruscanti sky-lanes. Vader stood guard in the hangar flanked by a platoon of his elite troopers, keeping a watchful eye as they evacuated the premises.

"That's the last of them, My Lord," Commander Appo said, moving in to stand beside the brooding Sith.

"And the lab?"

" _Decommissioned_ as per your orders Sir."

Vader nodded to the trooper. "Good work Commander. Take your team and escort the doctor and my wife. I will be in my starfighter, in-case we encounter any resistance."

"Yes Sir," Appo acknowledged, saluting the dark lord and ascending the boarding ramp with his men.

Waiting until the ramp clamped shut, the Sith watched as the final shuttle engaged its thrusters and began its take-off sequence. When the main fuselage was clear of the deck he charged to his starfighter and climbed into the cabin. Without a moment's hesitation, Vader ignited the thrusters and screamed from the hangar, shooting past the lumbering shuttle and into the sky.

Driving the craft into a barrel-roll, he held it steady until the shuttle approached, then flanked it starboard. He escorted them into the city traffic, leaving the Imperial Palace to disappear into the distance.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT SENATE OFFICE BUILDING: THE EMPEROR'S OFFICE_

Darth Sidious could feel his apprentice's anger rippling through their bond, the malevolent energy swirling between him and the young Sith. He clicked his tongue and sat at his desk, activating his comm.

The image of a red and white clad trooper rezzed into life, materializing above the obsidian surface.

"Commander Fox, what is the situation?" Sidious sneered, clasping his fingers together.

" _One doctor is deceased and the other is missing My Lord. We have scoured the level and there is no sign of Lord Vader or his battalion,"_ Fox said.

The Emperor bared his teeth beneath the cowl of his robe. "And what of the facilities? Are they intact?"

" _No My Lord. The Theatre and Research Lab have both been destroyed, along with all of their contents. It's like a warzone in there."_

So, he was right; his apprentice had left the palace. And apparently he'd killed the poor unsuspecting doctor in the process. Pity, she was just beginning to show such promise. Rapping his fingers upon the desk, he stared at the image glittering before him. "Very well Commander, take your men to the hangar and inform me at once if Lord Vader returns."

Fox nodded. "Yes Sir."

He terminated the transmission and swung his throne around to gaze out the window. Vader's sudden decision to leave the palace was hardly unexpected, just a little sooner than he'd originally planned. Not that it mattered – as confused and angry as the boy was – he could still sense his unwavering loyalty to him through their bond. Perhaps some space was just what he needed. After all, they did say that absence made the heart grow fonder. Still, he wanted to try and make contact with him, just to be certain.

Spinning back to his desk, he activated the comm once again.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: CITY AIRSPACE_

Traffic was heavy. The late afternoon sun painting the city with the same amber hue of his master's eyes. Speeders and transports littered the lanes, darting back-and-forth between each other, making the convoy a challenge to keep together. Constant tracking contact was needed to ensure that no-one ventured off course. So far, so good.

The red comm beacon flashed and beeped on the Interceptor's instrument panel. Vader knew it was his master without needing to check. He'd felt him probing around in his mind since the minute he'd disposed of that insufferable doctor. He'd actually taken longer to raise him than he'd first expected.

Punching the controls he focused on flying until his master materialized above the holo-transmitter.

" _Lord Vader ..."_

He gritted his teeth, and clenched his hands tighter on the steering yoke. "Yes, My Master."

" _So you have decided to go out on your own my friend. But did you need to punish the good doctor?"_

The 'good doctor' indeed. Celeste was good, now. Good and _dead_. Vader choked back a growl, composing himself. "Her usefulness had reached its end Master."

" _Ah, I see. And what of your decision to leave?"_

The lead shuttle began its descent, reducing in speed as it neared their destination. Adjusting the controls, Vader slowed his approach.

"The palace is rife with echoes of dead Jedi. I have no interest in remaining there."

It wasn't a lie, the haunting echoes of the once Jedi Temple tormented him constantly, whispering of his betrayal, reminding him of his failure to resist the seduction of the dark side. All that aside, it wasn't his primary motivation for up and leaving. It was clear to Vader now that Padmè was not safe there and that all it would take is one mission, one call away and she would be at his master's mercy. He'd die fighting before allowing for that to happen.

Static filled the transmission, and his master's probing grew stronger. After a moment, the dark tendrils retreated and he finally broke the silence.

" _Very well my apprentice. You have tonight. But I expect to see both you and your wife at the Senate in the morning. Do not keep me waiting."_

The transmission hissed out before Vader could answer. He didn't have time to think on their conversation at present, far too much needed to be controlled with his legion's relocation. Shuttle after shuttle were now descending into the underground hangar, all filled with his loyal troopers. He needed to get down there and keep them in order, until he could reassign them to their new barracks.

Glancing up at the towering skyscraper, a sudden melancholy chewed away at his insides. 500 Republica had now been transformed into his very own personal fortress, but how was Padmè going to react to its renovation? Sure her apartment was still untouched, save for a few intercoms embedded in the rooms, but every single other floor had been stripped and refitted to suit his needs. It was a debate he was not looking forward to.

Confident that his master was not about to try anything for the time being, he shot passed the shuttles and headed for the hangar at breakneck speed.

• • •

"Making our final approach Sir," Captain Antilles announced from the helm, guiding the Tantive III through the chaotic city sky lanes.

"Take us in slow and steady Captain. We don't want to attract unwanted attention," Bail replied, turning his cruiser seat to face the view port.

"Yes Sir."

Ferus and Caleb stared through the view port window, watching the convoy of white shuttles cross in traffic before them.

"That's something you don't see everyday," Caleb said, glancing sideways at his master seated beside him. "Is it normal to have that many shuttles travelling together here Senator?"

Bail stroked his chin. "Not particularly normal Caleb, no. It looks as though the army is on the move."

The older Jedi's face went ghostly white, his eyes fixed on the ships up ahead. "Caleb," he whispered, "shield your force presence at once."

"Master?"

Ferus turned to him, his eyes lost in thought. "Remember what I taught you. Now shield yourself, quickly."

"Yes Master."

A jet black Actis-class Interceptor suddenly darted through the convoy and hurtled past the front of their Corvette. Caleb shivered, feeling the chilling sensation swirl through the force. "That was him, wasn't it Master?" he asked.

"I'm not entirely certain my young padawan. But we must remain vigilant, the dark side surrounds this place."

"Maybe it would be best if the two of you changed into something a little less 'conspicuous'," Bail suggested, eyeing the Jedi over. "There are spare officer's uniforms in the cargo hold. I'm sure you can find some that fit."

Ferus agreed, rising from his seat. "Yes, perhaps that would be wise. We don't blend in very well anymore."

The Viceroy nodded and turned back to his datapad. "No, I'm afraid not."

• • •

Following Commander Appo down the shuttle ramp, Padmè paused to stare at the spectacle. The private underground hangar was filled with hundreds if not thousands of clone troopers all marching together in squad formation. They split into two groups at the head, slowly disappearing around the back of the central spire entrance.

Positioned between the two ivory masses was Vader, directing the squad leaders and their men. It was a sight to behold. The tall armoured black knight surrounded by his white army, commanding them with expert precision. His deep baritone voice thundered above the rolling roar of their boots striking the duracrete platform, barking out orders and directing them from the sector.

He must have sensed her presence. Whirling to face the shuttle, he strode between his men almost as if in slow motion, his midnight cloak billowing behind him as he headed straight for her. His presence was one of omnipotence, his powerful aura eclipsing everything and everyone around him.

"Impressive, isn't he my lady?" Appo said, leaning toward her.

"In a spine chilling sort of way. You have a lot of respect for my husband, don't you Commander?" Padmè replied, not taking her eyes off the approaching Sith Lord.

He nodded. "Yes, we all do. He fights beside us, afraid of nothing. Every trooper in this battalion would willingly lay down his own life for our Supreme Commander."

 _Afraid of nothing._ Only she knew that was never the case, definitely not with Anakin. He'd always lived with fear, everyday, for as long as she could remember. He'd just managed to conceal it better than others. Fear of loss was his biggest downfall, pushing him to strive for greater power in an effort to protect the ones he loved. Lost in the premise of the 'Chosen One', consumed by the belief that one day he would be powerful enough to save people from death. She wondered if he could see the irony in his actions now.

Vader stopped at the end of the ramp, his helmeted head inclined in her direction. Holding his gloved hand out, he silently beckoned for her to join him. Closing the distance, Padmè wondered if fear was what had driven him to finally make the decision to leave the palace, or whether it was something else entirely.

Taking his hand she allowed him to help her down, keeping her gaze fixed on the lenses of his mask. As usual they gave nothing away, concealing his face and expression from everyone including her. But still, there was something off about him. A certain knife's edge lingering within his normally icy demeanour – he wasn't just angry – he was _enraged_. She could feel his emotions rippling through him, cascading between their touch, amplified by their emotional connection. Trying to search out his eyes, she whispered to him. "Are you alright?"

He didn't respond, leaving the uneven rasp of his respirator to answer for him. After a moment he turned his head away and gently tugged on her hand, urging her forward; a simple rumbling command the only word leaving his obscured mouth: "Come."

Fighting back the automatic shiver that quaked through her body in his aggravated presence, she fell into step beside him, walking between the parted sea of troopers. Commander Appo broke away from them when they reached the center spire, moving to assist his squad leaders in their men's relocation. Aleria on the other hand remained close, following them into the turbo-lift when the doors opened.

Vader moved to the back, bringing Padmè around to stand right in front of him. The redhead doctor then stood to the side, giving him as much distance as could be afforded in such a confined space. The doors closed and they began their ascent in complete silence, the only sound being the steady hiss in and out of the Sith's breathing apparatus.

Floor after floor after floor they ascended, the green lights on the turbo-lift flickering from symbol to symbol. It finally came to rest three levels from her own, the durasteel platform grinding to a halt with a thump. The doors whooshed open and they exited into a barren hallway, marked with grey walls and no decor. Padmè and Aleria stopped just outside, waiting for the Dark Lord to guide them on.

Vader strode to the front, simply waving his hand to summon the two women to follow. Walking down the passage they neared a set of grey blast doors positioned directly opposite to each other, the Sith moved to the one on the left and activated the security panel opening the door. "Your accommodations, Doctor," he said flatly. "I trust you'll find them to be satisfactory."

Glancing between Vader and his wife, Aleria nodded in acceptance. "Thank you, My Lord," she said, stepping into the room.

The Sith didn't move, his mask facing the empty passageway up ahead, as if lost in thought. "The opposing door leads to a med-bay. You will find everything you require to fulfil your duties inside. External communications are forbidden without my expressed consent."

His voice was cold and detached, but hidden beneath his words was one sincere concealed threat. _Betray me and you will suffer the consequences._ Padmè raised a brow at her husband's chilling manner, folding her own arms and watching as the obedient doctor simply nodded at her before disappearing into the room. He closed the door and briefly looked to her before turning back to face the passage.

"Come, Padmè," he said, waiting for her to join him. "I will take you to your apartment."

She sighed, staring at his cloaked back. Moving to walk beside him, she glanced up at his covered face trying to figure out what to say. They were finally alone and she intended to broach her concerns. "Anakin, what's wrong?" she asked.

He looked down to her before turning his head back to stare straight ahead, his heaving stride thumping heavily on the ground as they approached the turbo-lift. "I find the fact that you need to ask me that disturbing Padmè."

"Why?"

He waved his gloved hand to open the lift and stepped to the side, gesturing for her to get in. "I would've thought that after everything we have been through, you would be able to feel when I'm in pain. Clearly I overestimated our connection."

She stopped by the door, staring up at his crimson lenses in shock. "Feel your pain? I'm not a Jedi Anakin, I don't feel the force as you do. What happened to you? Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?"

He turned his head away, gently ushering her into the lift. "It only seems suddento you Padmè." Joining her, Vader stood alongside and selected the top level, then dropped his hands to rest on his belt.

The silence was deafening and Padmè's mind was going crazy with what could possibly have happened to him to make him behave in this way. As the lift thumped to a halt, she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled trying to compose her growing anxiety. He was right in a sense, she could feel ... _something._ But besides the icy chill crackling in the air between them, she had no idea what it was. It felt like a dull ache radiating through every fibre of her body, as if she were about to fall sick with fever or something.

The doors opened and she gazed out upon the familiar surroundings of their old apartment. It looked the same, the furniture, the artwork, the homely nick-nacks from Naboo. Everything was precisely as it was only a few days earlier.

"The service droids will bring your things up shortly," Vader said, returning his arms to his chest. "I won't be joining you for a while, I have other matters to attend to."

"What do you mean?" she asked, surprised that he was leaving her alone. "Where will you be?"

"On the floor below this one. I have my own chambers, one better equipped to support my needs."

He went to close the door and she threw her hand across the sensors preventing it from closing. The move attracted his undivided attention, his mask snapping from the lift sensor and beating down on her shocked face. "We need to talk Anakin, now. I don't understand what's going on or what has happened to you or what made you murder Celeste back at the palace. I want answers, and I think I deserve them."

An irritated rumble escaped his mask. "You will understand soon enough. There's an intercom in every room and the one in your bedroom connects directly through to me, you may use it if you feel it necessary. As of right now, I need time. When I come back we can talk."

"Anakin!" she said, fighting back the building angry tears and slowly removing her hand from the door jamb.

" _Not_ _now_ , Padmè," he growled, turning his head away and waving the door closed. "I will return shortly."

The doors sealed shut, taking her Sith Lord husband away once again. Padmè repeatedly pounded on the door, venting her frustrations at his refusal to open up to her. "Aargh! You are so unbelievable!" she yelled. Turning around, she leant back against the durasteel and slid down to the ground balling her hands into fists. She thumped the floor, cursing out loud in an effort to let go some of her anguish. "Why won't you just talk to me?" she cried through clenched teeth. "Why won't you let me in!" Dropping her head into her hands, she wept, the racking sobs violently shaking her shoulders.

• • •

Vader could feel the waves of emotion spiralling from his wife as he left her in the apartment. It was for the best, he knew this. He needed to settle himself, to quell the raging fury surging through him. Being near her or talking with her as he was presently was not going to do anything for their already strained relationship, he had no patience and the serum pumping through every vein in his body was affecting his mental stability. He was dangerous and unpredictable and she was too adept at pushing him to the very brink of his limits.

Removing his cape he hung it up on the purpose-made hook secured to the wall and thudded into his new living quarters. It was going to take a bit of adjusting to, but he had no intention of staying here for too long.

He missed the Exactor, missed the comfort of being out in the wide expanse of space, traversing the hyper lanes and routinely taking his new TIE-fighter out on test flights. The confines of Coruscant were becoming as claustrophobic as the mask on his face, slowly suffocating him the longer he remained here.

Then there was the knowledge of his children. Knowing, that out there, somewhere, he had two force-sensitive babies with insurmountable potential possibly in the hands of his former master. The very thought of Kenobi raising _his_ offspring made him sick to the stomach.

He walked into the kitchenette and hit the control panel embedded in the black synth-marble countertop, activating the pressurizing system. A loud whirring noise filled the room as the oxygen-rich air rushed in through the overhead vents.

Looking around at the sparsely furnished apartment, he headed over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and drew the heavy ebony drapes closed, not wanting to be disturbed. Feeling satisfied that no-one could see him, he removed his head gear and placed it down on the counter. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, he turned on the tap and filled it with water.

His bacta-tank was calling him. It had been ages since he'd felt comfortable enough to sink into its soothing embrace. He couldn't do it at the palace once he'd brought Padmè there, he was too nervous to leave her unprotected for long periods of time, especially with the way his master had been acting. Gulping down the cool water, he placed the glass back on the sink and headed down the rear corridor.

His recovery and maintenance room was securely located in the middle of his quarters, hidden between the main living area and his bed-chamber. Stepping inside the room, he waved his hand and activated the four med-droids waiting on standby. Their red singular photo-receptors lit up and their black bodies clunked and whirred into life. The empty bacta tank sat in the centre, beckoning him, whispering promises of relief. With both entrances to the chamber now sealed shut, the Dark Lord made his way to his workbench and started to strip down.

Completely naked, he thudded over to the support struts and stood on the elevated platform, resting his upper arms upon the durasteel braces. Immediately the droids clanked to him, going about removing his cybernetics in preparation for his treatment. Every poke and prod of their metallic limbs made him wince, the pinching and stabbing of his inflamed flesh where it met the alloy bringing tears to his golden eyes.

After a few agonizing moments, what remained of his human body was freed from the artificial prosthetics and the merciless droids carried them over to place them down on his workbench.

The fourth droid attached the breathing mask to his face and secured it into position, then clunked away to retreat back into its corner.

"Ready and awaiting your signal, Lord Vader," the last droid announced, manning the control terminal.

"Engage," he rasped, the words muffled by the respirator.

"Yes Sir."

The duraglass chamber sealed shut and the bright green liquid began to bubble up from the base, slowly encompassing the Sith's damaged body. He took one last glance at his surroundings before closing his eyes, gently slipping into a meditative trance as the bacta rose over his head.

 _Finally, some relief at last._

• • •

Several hours had passed since Anakin had left her alone. The service droids had delivered her belongings and she'd spent the time since unpacking her things and putting them away. Everything had become so complicated – Anakin had become so complicated. His moods were unstable and difficult to judge; one minute he was her loving husband and the next he wasn't. The constant back and forth was starting to make her dizzy.

Something had to have happened in that theatre. From what Aleria had said, it must've been something severe. She was right in the end, Celeste didn't survive the aftermath. And whatever it was, was damaging enough for Anakin to suddenly decide to up and leave the palace, something she thought was never going to happen.

But he wouldn't talk to her about it. Even when she had asked him if he was alright, he'd shut her out refusing to discuss it. Hopefully them both being away from Palpatine would finally give her a chance to get through to him. She'd contemplated trying to go to his chamber to see him, but each time she convinced herself not to. He was isolating himself on purpose, perhaps because he knew he was in one of his moods and didn't want to upset her. If that was the case then her forcing herself on him would only make matters worse.

She sat down on the sofa and grabbed her datapad, deciding to try and catch up on whatever was going on in that farce of a Senate before she arrived in the morning. Flicking through the feed, she found the meeting agenda and scrolled through it half-heartedly. Darth Vader was listed as a special guest which she found surprising, Anakin never was one for going to the Senate meetings. But it was probably so he could keep an eye out, making sure that nothing happened to her.

The door to her apartment slid open. She heard the thud of his boots and respirator echoing in the silence. At least his breathing seemed more steady than it was earlier.

"I was wondering when you were coming back," she said, slowly turning in her seat to watch him saunter in.

"I needed a chance to regroup," he grumbled, moving around and dropping into the seat beside her. "It has been a rather trying day."

She turned back to the datapad. "Yes, I suppose it has."

"There's too many memories in here," Vader groaned, folding his arms.

Padmè cocked her brow and stared at his mask guardedly. "Don't you want to remember what we used to have anymore?" she asked choking down the lump that suddenly formed in her throat.

He looked back at her. "And what did we used to have, Padmè?"

She held back the cry trying to leap out of her mouth. Had he truly changed that much that he'd forgotten the love they had for each other? "Each other, Anakin. We had each other."

"Did we?" he asked, rising to his feet and adopting his parade stance in front of the window. "From what I remember, we barely spent any time together, and the time we had was more often than not spent discussing things other than _us._ "

"We both had roles to play, but that never changed how I felt about you – how I still feel about you."

"Perhaps. Maybe now it can be different."

She got up and moved to stand beside him, gently stroking his arm. "What's going on in that mind of yours?" she asked.

A strangled sigh escaped his mask, and he turned his head to look down at her. "I'm afraid, Padmè."

"Afraid of what Anakin?"

He pulled out of her touch and started to pace. "Of everything. Sidious, the Senate, our future ..." he let his words trail off and stood staring at the wall. "He told me something in the theatre that made me question everything." Spinning back to face her, he folded his arms. "I need to get you away from here for a while, sooner rather than later. I miss my ship and I want to find our children."

"Do you have a plan in mind?"

He started to pace again, thumping around the sitting room. "I have a few theories, but nothing I'm sure about. The force isn't helping me find them. Plus it won't be long before my Master sends me out on another mission."

"Is that what's bothering you?"

He stopped again, staring into the air. "Yes and no. I am hoping to discover something at the Senate meeting tomorrow, especially since _Bail_ _Organa_ is going to be there."

He spat out the Viceroy's name, pouring every bit of hate and angst he was feeling into it. As much as she wanted to find her children, the thought of Anakin threatening her old friend into submission was not something she was overly keen on. "He may know nothing about their whereabouts, Anakin. Then what will you do?"

He growled, clenching his fists at his thighs. "Then I shall take whatever information I can get out of him and use it to start my search."

"I don't want you hurting him. If he hasn't got Luke and Leia then he has done nothing wrong."

He whirled to face her, his breathing shifting into an erratic rhythm. She could feel the anger rippling from him, charging the air between them with an icy chill.

"Then what do you suggest I do Padmè?" he snarled, locking his arms over his chest. "He's not going to just tell me where Kenobi is. I'm going to have to drag it out of him."

"Can't you find Obi-wan through the force?" she asked, almost yelling now. "He used to be your closest friend Anakin, surely you still have some sort of force-like connection with him."

"If I try to find him that way Padmè ... and yes there is still a _connection_ as you put it, then it will let him know that I'm looking for him. That will give him a chance to escape and I'm sure I don't need to explain the risk of that happening to you."

"Let's just see what tomorrow brings then shall we? Maybe you'll pick up on something."

"We'll see."

Padmè crossed the distance between them and stopped directly in front of him, staring wistfully up into the forbidding lenses of his mask. She wanted to be able to see him, to see what was hidden behind those emotive eyes of his. Reaching out to grab both gloved hands, she pulled them to his waist and stared. "Ani, are you able to stay with me tonight? I was hoping we could get dinner or something and just talk, like we used to."

His breathing rasped in and out several times before he responded. "I can't take my mask off in here Padmè," he said, the icy chill in the air warming slightly.

"Well, what about your chamber? Can I come there and stay with you instead?"

He dipped his head. "If you still want to."

She squeezed his hands tight, trying to get him to feel her commitment to him. "Of course I still want to. I want us to get through this and the only way that is going to happen is if we stick together. No distance between us, no secrets and no shutting each other out."

"Very well, Padmè. If that is what you want. I have none of your clothes in my suite, so you will need to get some before we leave."

She smiled up at him, pulling him into her arms and holding him tight. "Just give me a minute and we can go."

• • •

Vader startled awake as usual, another wave of nightmarish memories haunting his dreams. This time it was of him being burnt alive on Mustafar. His chest ached, the strain of trying to sleep without his mask next to Padmè in a bed again was proving difficult to ignore. He gazed down at her sleeping form, seeing the peaceful expression on her face.

 _I don't deserve you, Angel. I hope one day I can make it all up to you, starting with finding our children._ Tucking a loose curl behind her exposed ear, he sighed, an overwhelming sense of guilt playing on his mind. He bent over and placed a tiny kiss on her forehead then rose from the bed.

Picking up his suit, he carried it into his maintenance chamber and sat down at his workbench to adjust some of the controls. The medicator-unit was either malfunctioning or had been dialed-up while he was unconscious going by the number of injections he was receiving. Instead of one shot of serum every two hours he was getting two per hour and it needed to be fixed.

He couldn't be himself under that sort of stimulation. Every thought in his mind was jumbled and confused, fuelling his frustration and pent up anger, and now he felt as though he was coming down off something, his skin clammy, his head pounding and his muscles quaking.

Finding the control box tucked inside, he turned off the unit all together, deciding to run without its assistance for the time being. Closing it back up, he retracted the needles so they wouldn't stick him and proceeded to check over the rest of the suit. Everything else appeared to be in working order with no other modifications he wasn't aware of. He took it back into the bedroom and laid it over a chair by the wall, before taking a seat on the bed beside Padmè.

He glanced at the chrono by the bed. It was getting late and she still showed no signs of waking. For all the years he'd known her, she was always an early riser, especially when she had a meeting to attend to. This was most unusual behaviour, she only ever slept in when they managed to get some much needed time off together, and in reality not much of that time was ever actually spent sleeping anyway.

He leant down to gently stir her. "Padmè, it's time to get up now," he whispered.

Her eyelids fluttered and she made the most adorable little grunt as she rolled over onto her other side.

"Angel, come on. We have a meeting to go to this morning and you need to get ready."

She yawned and stretched her arms across the bed searching for him, patting his pillow and then his sheet. He chuckled, dropping down to rest his chin on the curve of her waist. "Good morning Angel," he said staring at her.

Padmè rubbed her eyes and met his gaze. His eyes were the colour of the Naboo sky on a clear mid-summer's morning, sparkling sapphire blue irises staring back at her. She nearly cried for joy at seeing them again. "Anakin," she croaked, as a small tear slipped down her cheek.

He chuckled again. "Good morning sleepy-head. You do remember that we have a meeting at the Senate this morning?"

Her eyes darted around the room in a daze. "What time is it?"

Taking her hand, he gently pulled her up to sit on the bed, smiling. "It's just after seven. We have to be there before nine."

"Oh my stars, why didn't you wake me?" She started to panic, rolling off of the bed and tugging on her hair, looking dazedly around the bedroom. "Why aren't you at the temple? Won't you get in trouble?"

Vader laughed, gently gripping her shoulders. "Oh Angel, I think you're still asleep. Aleria will be here shortly, she's bringing breakfast up. Go have a shower and I'll help you get dressed."

She rubbed her eyes again and tried to shake off the haze of sleep. "Aleria?" she asked. Then realization dawned on her and she finally remembered where she was. She looked up at Anakin, seeing his now hairless head and scarred skin. "Oh, I'm sorry Ani, I must've been dreaming."

His heart sank, seeing the sadness wash over her face when she came back to reality. Pulling her against his battle scarred and disfigured chest, he held her close and whispered into her ear. "It's alright my love. But we do need to get ready, he's expecting us."

"Yes, right Palpatine. I'll go have a shower."

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: SENATE BUILDING: MAIN FOYER_

Vader rested his hands in his belt and watched as Commander Appo and six of his troopers escorted Padmè down the corridor. He didn't like this, she was too far away from him. But the only way he and his Master's plan was going to work, was if she was away from him and open to the other Senators. But he still didn't like it.

His comm-unit chirped, pulling him from his musings. His Master was summoning him. It was time. With a flick of his wrist, he whirled on his heel and thundered down the corridor to the Emperor's ready-room with his troopers in-tow.

Entering the lavish chamber he strode to the doorway to the dais entrance where his Master was waiting and dropped to his knee.

Sidious turned to him, his hooded cloak drawn up over his pasty face leaving only his sneering mouth exposed. The probing in his mind began, prodding around at his mental shields in exploration. He clamped his teeth.

"Rise my friend," he purred, retreating from his mind.

Vader did as commanded, slowly bringing himself back to his full height and silently towering over his master.

"You seem at ease," he said.

"Yes My Master."

Sidious turned away from him and pulled the corner of the red drapes askew, gazing out into the caucus. "Good, I need you to be focused."

"I am focused, My Master," Vader said, resting his hands back in his belt.

"I want you to listen out for whatever you can find during the meeting. Any whispers of treason or rebellious behaviour need to be reported back to me at the meeting's end."

"As you wish."

• • •

Padmè lingered nervously inside the ready-room by her old dais, waiting for the call to podium to sound. Her corseted dress suddenly felt suffocating, the cascading black fabric weighing heavily on her heart. Commander Appo stood diligently beside her while the rest of his men guarded the door. There was a shuffling of feet from the entrance and her eyes darted over her shoulder to see who it was.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" a familiar man's voice called out from the distance.

She spun around in shock. "Bail!"

He rushed over to her, flanked by two peculiar officers that she didn't recognize. "Padmè, I thought you were dead. Where have you been?"

She swallowed down the sudden wave of anger rising inside her. "I was on Naboo until only recently being brought back to Coruscant."

His deep brown eyes stared at her questioningly. "What happened? How come you're back?" he whispered.

She sighed, glancing back at the trooper standing protectively behind her. Appo nodded and began surveying the room. She kept her voice low, not certain as to who could hear her. "I'm staying here on Coruscant. Palpatine asked me to return to the Senate after the death of Queen Apailana, naturally I didn't have much of a choice."

He nodded. "Understandably." He looked around nervously, the presence of the Trooper Commander not escaping his attention. "Are you alright?" he whispered.

"Yes and no, Bail. I have a lot of questions as you probably expect."

He frowned, calling his two officers to stand beside him. The taller one cleared his throat. There was something oddly familiar about him; something in his eyes.

"Mrs Skywalker, I am so glad to see you again. We have all been extremely concerned for your welfare," Ferus said, dipping his head.

Bail shot him a questioning glance before returning his attention to Padmè. "I'm so sorry Padmè, I didn't realise you were still alive. That's something my _friends_ here may have forgotten to mention."

Padmè's face hardened and she stood rigidly tall, folding her arms. "Ferus, Caleb? You shouldn't be here." Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. "Where is Sabè and did you find _him_?" she asked, adopting her Senator voice.

"Yes we did, she is with him at present," Ferus confirmed, folding his arms.

Another flash of anger surged through her. So her handmaiden was now with Obi-wan and possibly her children. "Where are they? I need to see them," she almost snarled.

The two Jedi looked briefly to each other before Bail interjected. "Padmè, are you safe? Do you need help?" he whispered.

She shot him a cold glare, strangling the wave of fury rising in her chest. "That's a question for another time and place, Senator Organa."

The alarm call beeped over the PA system, alerting them all that the meeting was about to commence. Padmè glanced between her party and then looked to Commander Appo moving in from the rear. "Commander, it is time," she said moving for the curtains.

"Yes, my lady," he acknowledged, following her to the dais.

The Viceroy and the two Jedi exchanged curious glances before following Padmè and the trooper out onto the podium. Bail sat one side of Padmè while Appo sat on the other.

"You know I can help you," the Viceroy whispered leaning toward her.

The Emperor's dais slowly lowered into the centre of the caucus, complete with his Senatorial entourage and Darth Vader.

She glanced to the Alderaanian from the corner of her eye. "I hope so Bail, I really hope so," she whispered turning her eyes back to her husband and his Master.

The first half of the meeting was uneventful. Palpatine had introduced her husband to the Senators as his Supreme Commander and second-in-charge of the Empire. As usual the crowd cheered and crowed in accordance. She'd spent most of the time straining to watch her husband's body language on the dais, seeing the awkward manner in which he held himself, slowly panning his mask left and right around the room.

Moments before Palpatine announced that they would adjourn for their midday meal, Anakin's voice whispered in her head, catching her off guard.

" _Meet me in the conservatory."_

As the alarm sounded over the speakers, Padmè excused herself and disappeared to the conservatory to meet with her husband. He was standing in the shadows with his arms tightly locked over his chest, the only thing giving his presence away being the red and green flashing diodes on his chest panel.

"Anakin, have you learned anything?" she asked, looking around.

"Nothing noteworthy," he groaned, disheartened. "And you? I see the Viceroy joined you, how touching."

She shot him a condescending glare and folded her arms. "I think he knows where Obi-wan is."

A low growl rumbled from his vocoder. "I bet he does."

"He offered to help me Ani, and I have an idea, although you may not like it."

He started to pace. "I don't like it already," he hissed.

"Just hear me out, it could be our only chance at finding them," she stated, grabbing his arm and spinning him around to look at her.

His breathing grew ragged. "Alright, I'm listening."

• • •

Bail was waiting in the dais when she finally returned, looking quite perplexed. "I was wondering where you had gotten to," he said, as she took her seat beside him.

Deep hazel eyes met brown as she stared at him pleadingly. "Does that offer for help still stand?" she whispered, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

His brows furrowed heavily. Leaning into her shoulder, he kept his voice to a bare whisper. "What can I do?"

She couldn't believe what she was about to say but she had to. She needed to do something. "I'm being held prisoner, I'm begging you, please help me. I can't escape on my own and I'm afraid I may not survive the next few weeks."

"Who's holding you prisoner?"

She swallowed and wiped another tear from her eye. "Darth Vader."

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Sorry for the long wait everyone, I have been flat out with work for the last few weeks and haven't had the ability to write.

The characters are starting to converge now and it gets pretty intense from here on in. There's probably another 8 to 10 chapters left at most and I will try to get them out a bit quicker, but we'll see how we go. I may end up releasing lower word count chapters just to keep it updating quicker, as the long ones can take quite a while to complete, especially when Vader and friends decide to go on hiatus for a while and don't talk to me.

Thanks for the reviews and the follows/favourites, it makes the whole process even more enjoyable.

Happy Star Wars Day and as always...

MTFBWY


	26. Chapter 24: Prisma

**Chapter 24 : Prisma**

Vader watched the Loyalist Committee's podium keenly from his Master's side. He wasn't remotely interested in listening to the insignificant dribble pouring from the mouths of the representatives for the Trade Federation. They were whinging about how hard done by they were again. He still couldn't stand the sight of them.

But what really captured his attention was the movement going on at Padmè's podium. The Viceroy had gotten up from his seat and returned to the ready-room, leaving Padmè and the Commander alone. His heart skipped a beat. Something wasn't right and he was stuck out on his Master's dais in the middle of the caucus with no means of escape.

He tuned into his Master's voice, talking to the Senators supporting the snivelling relative of Nute Gunray. He could choke him from where he was standing. It wouldn't be difficult. He fantasized about it, envisioning his bug eyes bulging as he struggled for air.

The Viceroy returned to the dais, along with his two companions. He clenched his fists. Padmè glanced up at him and instantly his breath caught in his throat. Anger swelled in his breast, stealing all rational thought from his mind.

His Master noticed, glancing over his shoulder. Vader returned his eyes to the dais just in time to see Padmè rise from her seat. It was all happening right under his nose and he was powerless to stop it.

" _Padmè?"_ he called out through the force.

She paused and looked up then quickly left the podium, followed by Commander Appo.

Nothing gripped his chest like the all consuming fear that suddenly swept over him at that moment. He wanted to leap from the dais and charge for her, terrified of losing her again. "Master," he snarled.

Sidious looked to him and flicked his wrist dismissively, effectively shushing him while he returned to the debate.

Vader grew anxious his respirator erratically clicking in and out. " _Master_ ," he hissed, not taking his eyes off the now barren dais down below.

The Emperor shot him a scolding glare and waved his hand, disengaging his vocoder, silencing him.

Panic set in. She never said anything about doing anything today. He wasn't ready. If he was being honest, he wasn't sure that he was even truly in agreeance with this decision and had hoped to talk her out of it. " _PADMÈ!"_ he screamed through the force praying that she'd hear him and wait. His heart thumped, the throbbing pulse deafening him.

• • •

"Wait Bail, I have to do something," Padmè cried, turning to Commander Appo hurrying into the ready-room behind her.

The Viceroy spun to face her. "Quick Padmè, we don't have long."

The trooper grabbed her arm and held her tight. "What are you doing?" he asked, the panic starting to settle in as he realised what was happening.

"You'll understand soon enough Commander, here give me your comm-unit," she said.

"Surely you aren't leaving with them, are you my lady?" he asked handing her the small device.

"I am, but I need you to tell him something for me." She glanced over her shoulder to Bail and the two disguised Jedi waiting in the corridor.

"No. He's going to be furious. I can't let you leave."

She stared up at the black lenses of his white and blue helmet hoping that he could see the desperation and pain in her eyes. "Commander Appo, please inform Lord Vader that I have your comm-unit. Tell him I will contact him as soon as I can. Please, I have to do this."

He tightened his grip. "They're Jedi aren't they? The two officers? They're the same ones we were after at Naboo."

She nodded. "Please, let me go. He knows what I'm doing, _please_."

Ferus and Caleb heard the commotion and saw the trooper refusing to allow her to leave. They both walked over.

"Jedi scum! You'll pay for this!" Appo declared, yanking Padmè back and reaching for his blaster.

"You don't need to detain her, she's free to leave," Ferus said with a wave of his hand.

The trooper shook his head and released her arm. "I don't need to detain her, she's free to leave," he repeated flatly.

"You're needed to regroup back at the shuttle," the Jedi continued.

"I'm needed to regroup back at the shuttle." Commander Appo shook his helmet and headed for the exit, completely bemused by the whole ordeal.

Padmè wiped the tears from her eyes and stuffed the comm-unit into her cloak pocket. She hated herself for what she was doing, knowing that Anakin would not understand.

"Come My Lady, we don't have time," Ferus called, heading for the door.

"It's now or never," she said, quickly glancing down the corridor expecting to see Anakin running toward her. The coast was clear and he was nowhere to be seen.

"Come on Padmè!" Bail called from up ahead. "My ship is ready."

She turned and ran toward the Viceroy, holding the flowing skirt of her dress off the floor. Her heart felt like it was about to explode, the violent throbbing setting every nerve on fire. They fled down the corridors to the turbo-lift, quickly descending to the basement.

"Do you think he's noticed your absence yet?" Bail asked as the doors opened.

She'd heard Anakin's heartbreaking cries in her head only moments earlier. They were almost enough to make her stop dead in her tracks. She nodded to the Viceroy. "He knows ... believe me, he _knows."_

He nodded. "Hurry, let's get you onto the ship before he gets here," he stated, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the platform where the Tantive III was waiting.

• • •

The moment the podium reached its station, Vader leapt to the floor and charged toward the ready-room, knowing he was already too late. He steamrolled down the corridors stretching out with the force to feel for her.

She was at the platform, he could just sense her presence, accompanied by two other force-users more than likely renegade Jedi. Using the force to quicken his stride, he charged toward the hangar as fast as his cybernetics could carry him. If he couldn't reach her, perhaps he could at least take one of them out in the process.

Bursting through the turbo-lift doors, he ran for the main platform, seeing the ramp whining shut. The blasted ship was already lifting off, its thrusters burning a bright iridescent blue as it prepared to depart. Clenching his fists tight, he stood at the end of the platform and stared up at the vessel stealing his life away from him. "PADMÈ NO!" he bellowed, his cape flapping in the gusts of wind and the afternoon sun shimmering off his glossy midnight armour.

Reaching out with both gloved hands, he drew on the force and tried to pull the ship back down. The rubble and debris around his boots trembled and the ship shuddered and vibrated under his grip. He screamed out his fury, using it to focus his rage.

The ship held in the air before him, the blinding thrusters glowing brighter with each second. It shuddered and shook before slipping from his grasp and hurtling into the atmosphere, leaving him gasping on the Senate Building platform. He collapsed to his knees from the exertion, his chest heaving in and out and the rusty taste of blood seeping into his mouth.

She was gone.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT AIR SPACE: TANTIVE III_

Padmè stared silently out the port window trying not to cry. She could feel Anakin's soul-crushing heartache rippling through her. He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye. She sighed and dropped her head into her hands.

It all happened so fast. Faster than even she had intended. Part of her wanted to turn the ship around and return to him, telling him how much she loved him and that he needn't worry about her disappearing into the galaxy. She loved him more than anything and didn't want to imagine being away from him for too long.

"Are you alright Padmè?" Bail asked taking a seat beside her. "You seem upset."

She wiped her eyes and looked up at her old friend, trying to at least pretend to be grateful. "I'm fine, thank you Bail," she whispered.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded unable to repeat the statement.

"I'm going to take you to my palace, Breha will be so surprised to learn that you are still alive."

"Thank you for your kindness. I'm sorry for putting you through this, especially knowing what will be coming for you as repayment."

The Viceroy smiled and patted her shoulder. "He can't touch me Padmè, I'm protected by the Senate. It's called Diplomatic Immunity."

She stared back out the window watching as the ship broke through the final layers of the planet's atmosphere. "Even that won't protect you from him, Bail. He knows no such restrictions."

Ferus walked into the passenger cabin and sat down. "Captain Antilles has activated the cloaking device and is currently jamming all transmissions to and from the ship. We're now readying for the jump to lightspeed."

Bail nodded. "The quicker we leave here the better. It won't be long before the Empire comes after us."

Padmè stared back out the window, watching as they flew passed one of the new Imperial Star Destroyers, this one assumedly being his. It loomed menacingly around orbit with a handful of strange looking star-fighters darting back and forth. They had odd-shaped hexagonal wing shields with a weird ball-looking cock-pit.

"So that's a TIE-fighter," she whispered.

The Corvette banked portside in preparation for the jump. "Activating hyperdrive, prepare for lightspeed," Captain Antilles announced over the intercom.

The engines roared to life and the Tantive III lurched forward, disappearing into the stars.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: DARTH VADER'S FORTRESS_

The Dark Lord thundered down the ramp of his shuttle, charging through the sea of assembled troopers and straight into the turbo-lift. Padmè's sudden departure had plunged his mind into turmoil and it took all of his strength not to crush every unsuspecting person who happened to cross his path.

He'd lost her. He had her in his grasp and now he'd let her slip away. There was no way to describe the way he felt inside. Empty, hollow, devoid of all life. Would he see her again? Would she let him find her? Or would she run and hide amongst the stars, constantly one step ahead of him?

He smashed his mechanical fist into the wall of the turbo-lift, denting the decorative alloy panelling. No goodbye, no message, nothing. She just up and went without speaking another word.

The lift ground to a halt, thumping to his level.

Opening the doors, Vader barged into his chamber and continued to pace, unable to control his anguish. He raised his hands into the air and howled, unleashing a gut churning scream so loud the furniture started to shake.

His comm-unit chirped and he lifted his wrist hoping it was Padmè.

It wasn't.

He ignored it.

He couldn't think straight and the lenses in his mask had started to fog up due to the steady stream of tears raining down his scarred cheeks. Every beat of his heart was like an ion-cannon firing and recoiling violently against his ribcage. His heavy cybernetic legs thudded as he paced back and forth in the sitting area. The respirator clicked, thumped and hissed, faltering under his erratic heartbeat.

Unable to keep himself together and overwhelmed by grief, he crashed to the floor. Tucking his legs underneath him, he hunched over and started to rock back and forth.

* * *

 _ALDERAAN: ROYAL PALACE_

Padmè pulled the hood up on her cloak and followed her rescuers from the ship. There was a crispness to the air that cut right through to her bones. She shivered and choked back the lump rising in her throat. Even the cool wind reminded her of Anakin, the way the temperature plummeted around him when he started to get uptight. She felt guilty for leaving him like that, but how else were they going to find their children? This was an opportunity she couldn't afford to pass up.

"Are you coming Padmè?" Bail asked, turning to her on the platform.

She looked up at the Viceroy seeing the welcoming smile on his face. Part of her wanted to run up and throw her arms around him, but the other ...

... the other part – the part that was now still back on Coruscant with her Sith Lord husband standing protectively behind her – wanted to storm up to him, grab hold of his shoulders and demand that he tell her where her children were. She feigned a smile and nodded politely, pulling her cloak in tight and crossing the platform.

Walking up to stand beside him, she concealed her anger, stuffing it down to the dark depths from whence it came. "I'm sorry Bail, I was lost in thought," she said in her Senatorial voice.

"Come my lady, Breha is most anxious to see you," he said placing his hand on the small of her back and ushering her through the palatial doors.

The two Jedi followed, paying close attention to the former Queen's peculiar behaviour.

When they finally reached the grand living area, Breha Organa was nowhere to be seen. It had been over one year since Padmè had stepped foot in this palace, and for some unnerving reason it felt nowhere near as welcoming as she remembered. Dropping the hood of her cloak, she slowly turned in place, taking note of every tiny detail that surrounded her. There were no signs of children hidden in plain sight, just old photographs and trinkets from a time long passed. The time of the Republic.

The two Jedi entered the room and took their posts, one either side of the great window overlooking the valley gorge.

"Can I get you some tea Padmè?" Bail asked, walking behind the bar-come-kitchenette recessed into the corner of the room.

"No thank you Bail. But I would like to use your powder-room, if you don't mind. My stomach is a little unsettled from the journey."

He smiled and nodded, pointing to the passage. "By all means, I trust you remember where it is."

"Indeed I do. Thank you, I won't be too long." Padmè quickly ducked down the corridor and headed for the fresher, needing a moment to herself. Closing the door, she sat down on the commode and fumbled in her cloak pocket for the comm-unit. Taking a deep breath, she called her husband.

" _Padmè,"_ he growled, " _tell_ _me_ _where_ _you_ _are_ , _now_."

"Shh, I don't want anyone to overhear us."

" _I will bombard Alderaan until it is nothing more than shattered space rock if you don't tell me, Padmè."_

"I understand that you are upset, but -"

" _UPSET?! Of course I'm upset, what did you think I'd be?"_

"Just stay calm, please. Don't come after me. Promise, you won't."

" _Stay calm? Have you lost your mind?"_

She heard footsteps creaking toward the fresher and instantly froze. "I have to go, someone's coming. I'll call as soon as I can."

" _PADMÈ!"_

"Goodbye Anakin."

She quickly stuffed the comm back into her pocket. There was a knock on the door and she jumped.

"Padmè, is everything alright?" Bail asked from the other side.

"Yes I'm fine, I'll be out in a minute," she said, quickly rising to her feet.

All eyes were on her as she came back into the sitting room and she instantly wondered if anyone had overheard her conversation. Crossing the rug, she sat down on the sofa and tried to relax. She couldn't help but wonder as to where the lady of the house was, for someone who was supposedly so keen on seeing her again, she sure was taking her time.

Moments later Breha walked in, her soulful brown eyes lighting up when she spotted her. She looked completely exhausted with deep shadows under her eyes. "Padmè! It is you," she said with a smile. "I didn't believe Bail at first, but now, seeing you here ... it's a miracle."

Padmè instantly rose to her feet and took Breha into her arms. "It's nice to see you again, it has been far too long," she said.

They both walked back to the sofa and sat down, eager to catch up with each other. Padmè sighed. It was nice to be around a more relaxing crowd for a change, not constantly on-edge worrying about every word that she said.

"So Padmè, tell me, what have you been doing with yourself? Bail tells me you have returned to office."

"Well," she started, trying to decide on how much to say. "I had returned to the Senate, but I won't be joining them for the next meeting."

"Really? Why is that?" Breha asked, folding her arms.

Padmè grew nervous. Everyone was staring at her from all corners of the room. Bail had walked out from the kitchenette, the two Jedi were facing her from the window and Breha was staring at her expectantly. Her palms started to sweat and she stroked them down the front of her dress, staring at her feet. "I was being held prisoner Breha. I only returned to the Senate because I was made to by Palpatine."

Bail sat down beside his wife and took her hand. They looked at each other with such love and devotion that it made her heart ache and her stomach churn. She already missed Anakin, no matter how moody and unreadable he had become.

"I'm so sorry Padmè, I didn't know," Breha said.

Tears started to well in her eyes and she quickly brushed them away, trying to hide how she was feeling. "I just feel so lost. This is not how I imagined my life going," she choked, struggling to keep her composure. Unable to hold it together, she dropped her head into her hands and broke down. "My husband is gone, my children are gone and my career is in shambles. I – I – I just don't understand how it all went so wrong," she sobbed. Lifting her head up, she blinked through the tears and tried to focus on the couple. "I – I just wish I knew why."

"Why what Padmè?" Breha asked with her hand tightly clamped around Bail's.

Padmè shot to her feet and started to pace, vigorously shaking her head. "Why my babies were taken from me, and I was left for dead with no knowledge of their whereabouts." She continued to pace around the room, clenching her arms tight around her stomach and fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit. "I just wish I knew where they were and that they were safe ... just to hold them in my arms ..."

She glanced back unable to disguise the absolute rage bubbling up to the surface. "Is that too much to ask? For a mother to be able to hold her babies just once? To be able to look into their eyes and tell them that she loves them more than anything in the galaxy?"

Breha and Bail silently looked to each other, as if they were having their own private conversation. "I can't begin to imagine how you must feel Padmè," Breha said, wiping her eyes.

Bail shot her a scolding glare and vehemently shook his head. His wife ignored him and rose from her seat, moving toward her crumbling friend.

" _Breha,"_ Bail warned moving to intercept her.

She spun to face him. "No Bail, I can't do this. She deserves to know. Can't you see? Things are different now, this is not what I agreed to."

"But Breha, our promise?" Bail contested pulling her around and staring into her eyes.

"No Bail, there's no changing my mind on this. It's the right thing to do. You know it, I know it. So let's put an end to at least some of her suffering."

"Bail? Breha?" Padmè choked, wiping her eyes again. "What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

Breha smiled and wiped the tear away that had begun making its journey down her cheek. Turning back to Padmè, she took her hand and gently urged her to follow.

"There's no going back, my love. If you do this now, you can't undo it," Bail warned folding his arms.

"I know, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't," she said, gently ushering the former Senator down the passage. "It's the right thing to do."

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: DARTH VADER'S FORTRESS_

 _Don't come after me. Promise you won't._

The young Sith Lord stood out on his private balcony with his hands locked behind his back, staring at the traffic. The cold night wind whipped at his cloak, the lengthy fabric flapping behind him. He was torn between respecting her wishes and giving her time or hurrying to the Exactor and heading to Alderaan to interrogate the Viceroy.

If he didn't leave now, he ran the risk of her disappearing into the galaxy. But if he did leave and confront Senator Organa, odds are he would lose her out of mistrust. He was caught.

He paced back and forth, listening to the rasp of his respirator. Time was running out and he needed to make a decision.

 _Trust can be restored, her life cannot._

He clenched his fists and stormed back inside, calling his lightsaber to his hand and charging for the door. As the turbo lift opened he was stunned in place.

His Master was here, standing in the elevator, and he did not look impressed.

"Master," Vader said.

Sidious sneered, his crooked mouth twisting beneath the cowl of his drawn up hood. "Kneel," he hissed, baring his yellowed teeth.

Vader instantly complied, awkwardly thudding to the floor and dropping his head.

" _Where_ is your wife?"

He didn't dare look up, already sensing the fury surging between their Master – Apprentice bond. "She has escaped My Master."

"What do you mean she _escaped_?"

Vader swallowed and gritted his teeth. "Senator Organa absconded with her. I believe he has taken her to-"

"Enough. You continue to disappoint me Lord Vader." He stepped closer, his flaming eyes boring right through his armour. "Perhaps I need to go and retrieve your dear little Padmè myself and lock her away so you can't lose her again."

Vader's head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat. "WHAT?!" he snarled, clenching his fists at his knees.

Sidious started to circle him, his heavy robe dragging on the floor by his feet. "You are clearly powerless to resist her persuasions, so now it seems I must take matters into my own hands."

Vader leapt to his feet, his gloved hand clasped on the hilt of his saber. "She is _my_ wife," he growled lowly. "You will not have her."

He cackled, rolling his eyes back. "You misunderstand me, my _Apprentice_ ," he hissed, spinning back to face him. "Unlike yourself, I suffer not for the pitiful desires of the flesh. Keeping her secured, safe and under _my_ protection will ensure _your_ obedience."

His Master kept talking, but he was no longer listening. A white hot fury had taken hold, the hilt of his lightsaber burning in his hand, the unsteady rasp in-and-out of his respirator, and his own voice inside his chaotic, unstable mind screaming out to protect her. He had been nothing _but_ obedient in these last ten months, carrying out his Master's orders to the best of his abilities. He'd forsaken everything he had to learn the ways of the dark side. The Jedi, the Republic, his own body.

There was no rational thought. No consideration of consequences. No hesitation.

Just rage.

Without warning Vader stomped forward and thrust his gloved hands out, force-pushing his manipulating Master across his chamber.

Sidious suddenly flew back, his cloak rippling in the air as his body catapulted across the room and smashed into the sweeping window.

Charging forward, the young Sith ignited his saber and went in for the attack.

Rising to his feet, the Emperor sneered in disgust, his hood falling from his head and exposing his disfigured face. With eyes of fire, he instantly lifted his hands and sent forth a blinding torrent of blue lightning.

Vader lifted his red blade and deflected the energy, sending it screaming back at his Master.

"Foolish boy!" he snarled, ceasing the barrage. "You're blinded by your pathetic devotion to her."

"I BECAME THIS FOR HER!"

As the thrumming red blade started to sweep down, an almighty screech and crunch of crumbling metal echoed in the chamber. Vader stumbled forward and crashed face first at his Master's feet, his lightsaber deactivating and rolling from his fingers.

Sidious cackled, looming over him as he repeatedly struggled to right himself and failed. "I warned you the last time you touched me with the force, that if you did it again, I would crush you," he scolded, lifting his claw like hands into position. "Consider this your final warning."

The air crackled and hissed. Lightning leapt from his fingers and engulfed the young Sith. The blinding blue energy lighting up the room.

His whole body jerked and seized, gloved fingers twitching, shattered legs shaking and his respirator clicking and thumping. The onslaught seemed to last for hours. Scorching his flesh and searing his skin. He was completely powerless.

After what felt like an eternity, his body finally gave out, succumbing to the agonizing torture. Darkness descended and he slowly slipped into stasis.

Sidious stopped the attack and straightened his cloak, drawing his hood back over his head. "Foolish, foolish boy. Perhaps, one day you'll learn," he muttered, turning his back on the armoured Dark Lord's now lifeless, smouldering body. Pulling out his communicator, he summoned the surviving doctor.

" _Yes, My Lord,"_ Aleria answered.

He glanced over his shoulder at his disabled Apprentice watching the ribbons of smoke rise from his suit. "Aleria, get in here and attend to Lord Vader. He appears to be a little under the weather."

"Right away Sire."

• • •

Piece by piece the redhead doctor stripped the Sith down, painstakingly removing each part of his intricate life-support suit. The four med-droids hovered at the corners of the bench waiting for orders.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she inspected his body checking his vitals. Angry red burn marks littered his skin, the raised lesions knotting together like a giant mass of spider webs mixing and entangling around each other. At the base of his thighs were blackened scorch marks where they met the prosthetics, she assumed to be the lightning exit wounds. Both of his cybernetic legs had been crushed as if he'd been run over by a Bantha. The alloy struts were shattered and crumpled and all the working gears had disintegrated. She sighed, assessing the damage. They'd need to be rebuilt from scratch, but this time she vowed to make sure they were better. And insulated to help him defend himself against the Emperor. Perhaps she could even enclose them this time, make them look and feel more natural.

His pulse was weakening by the minute and even with the oxygen mask attached to his face, his breathing was shallow and erratic. "You're lucky he didn't kill you this time," she whispered, administering the pain relief.

He didn't respond.

She called the droids over and stepped back. "Carefully remove his prosthetics and take them to the work bench. Make sure you take extra care, we don't want to make him worse."

Once he was free of the alloy she ordered them to lift him up into the restraints, suspending his unconscious body over the tank platform. "Rest easy Lord Vader, I'll be here when you wake up," she said setting the controls and initiating the bacta tank.

The green liquid bubbled to the surface and she headed for the workbench preparing to get started on his prosthetics.

* * *

 _ALDERAAN: ROYAL PALACE_

"Come in Obi-wan," Bail Organa said over his comm, standing in the corridor by the nursery. "Obi-wan, do you copy?"

" _Loud and clear Senator Organa."_

"Were you aware that Padmè Amidala was still alive?"

The transmission filled with static.

"Obi-wan?"

" _Yes, ah ... my apologies Senator, I was lost in thought."_

"Well?"

" _What makes you ask such a thing?"_

Bail glanced through the nursery doorway, seeing Padmè cradling and adoring Leia through tear soaked eyes. "Oh, just because she is currently sitting here cradling her daughter, sobbing."

More silence and more static.

" _Oh, yes. Well I was aware of her survival, Senator. But what in blazes is she doing there?"_

"We bumped into her at the Senate. She asked for our help and we obliged. Did you know she was being held prisoner by Darth Vader?"

When the Jedi responded, his voice was laced with urgency and a hint of panic. _"You rescued her? But how? Did he come after you? Are Ferus and Caleb alright?"_

Glancing at the two Jedi peering around the corner of the passage, provoked into eavesdropping by the mere mention of their names, he cleared his throat and pulled the nursery door closed. "He came after us eventually. It was a lot easier than I expected. I have the hyper-lane scanners working around the clock, watching for any Imperial activity, but so far there's been none. It's strange I must admit, I expected well ... _something_ at least."

" _How long have you been back at the palace?"_

Bail looked down at his wrist chrono. "Two standard hours maybe three."

" _Curious ..." he said reflectively. "Well, you should probably bring her here. This is the very last place he will come looking for her."_

"You seem to know of him rather well, Obi-wan."

" _No-one travels to the Outer-rim on a hunch Senator, not even the Sith. So the quicker you get her out of there, the safer you and your people will be."_

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Until tomorrow my good friend."

" _May the force be with you Senator. Kenobi out."_

Padmè sat in the rocking chair by the picture window, afraid to blink in case she was dreaming. Leia, her daughter, was more precious ... more beautiful ... more perfect than she could ever have imagined. And here she was, her tiny pink head nestled into the crook of her elbow, softly snoring in her sleep. _If only your father was here to see you. You'd have him wrapped around your tiny finger._

A warm tear fell from her cheek, dropping onto her cloak sleeve. She felt like some part of the gaping void that had existed inside for the last ten months had finally closed over. Like part of her heart had just reignited, thumping away joyfully within her chest.

Leia stirred in her arms, her bright brown eyes suddenly staring up at her so full of love and life. Her heart melted. Stroking the velvet smooth skin of her cheek, she sighed. How could one so young look at her with such utter devotion? It was as if she'd known her, her whole short life. Was it a mother-daughter thing? Or was it _something else?_ Something that she very well may have inherited from her Jedi-come-Sith of a father.

"She knows you're her mother," Breha said sadly, leaning against the window with tears in her eyes. "No matter how hard we tried, Bail and I could never reach her ... not in the way you have in such a short space of time."

Padmè looked between Breha and her daughter, an overwhelming sense of maternal protectiveness sweeping through her. She rose to her feet, wrapping her cloak protectively around her daughter's body. "You have my thanks for looking after her, Breha. But you're right, she belongs with me ... with her _family._ "

Breha smiled, the light not touching her eyes. Stepping forward she grabbed a large bag and started to pack the infant's belongings inside, pausing on occasion to dry her cheeks. Holding up a small woollen doll, she stared at it deep in thought. "This is her favourite toy, she talks to it constantly, not that either of us have any idea what she's saying," she whispers.

"I'm sorry Breha, I never came here with the intention of tearing your family apart," Padmè said, the smallest hint of anger colouring her words. "I wouldn't wish that kind of agony on anyone."

The Viceroy's wife placed the doll into the bag and looked up, once again wiping her face. "I hope you can find happiness somewhere Padmè. You've already been through so much trauma. Bail and I can adopt, we will manage as we always do."

She nodded, pulling her daughter in tighter against her chest and watching as Breha closed the bag.

"Padmè," Bail said, arms folded in the doorway, his brows tight. "It would seem that we have another long journey ahead of us."

She stared at him guardedly. "Where are we going?" she asked.

Breha sighed and left the room, covering her face as she pushed passed her husband in the doorway.

He watched her leave before turning back to her. "We leave for Tatooine within the half-hour."

Padmè's face dropped, her mouth agape in shock. "Tatooine? Why there?" Anakin would never willingly return to that place, not with everything it reminded him of.

"Master Kenobi is waiting for you," he replied, curtly bowing his head. "Let's not make him wait too long."

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 _I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much for the follows/favourites and reviews._

 _It's a little shorter than the last few, but I wanted to release it before I went back to work._

 _MTFBWY_


	27. Tantibus

_**TANTIBUS**_

(THE NIGHTMARE)

" **Night is when fear comes to us at its fullest, when we have no way to fight it. It will do everything it can to seep inside you. Sometimes it may succeed – but never think that you are the night."** (Samantha Shannon, The Priory of the Orange Tree.)

* * *

 _HYPERSPACE: TANTIVE III: EN-ROUTE TO TATOOINE_

" _Anakin?" Padmè cried, running down a never-ending dark passage. "Anakin, where are you?"_

 _Her heart was racing, with each footfall the Imperial Palace walls shook around her. Every step was a challenge, the tremors shifting and rattling the floor under her feet. He had to be here somewhere, she could hear him, crying out to her repeatedly in her head. His voice was broken, weak and strained. She had to find him. He needed her help._

" _Padmè ..." his voice croaked, a faint whisper riddled with pain._

" _ANAKIN I CAN'T FIND YOU!" she screamed, pawing at the walls for a door or secret panel. "TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!"_

 _A small boy appeared beside her, somehow managing to keep pace with his tiny legs. Sandy blonde hair floating and crystal blue eyes gleaming, the urchin ran alongside her. "This way," the boy said calmly, increasing in pace and sprinting ahead._

" _WAIT!" she cried, trying to catch up to him. His speed was incredible, much faster than hers and try as she might she couldn't close the distance._

" _He doesn't have long, we must hurry," the boy's voice cried out, as his cream tunic flashed behind the next bend._

" _It's alright, he's strong. He'll wait for us," a young girl whispered, appearing from nowhere and taking off down the passage. Her cream tunic flapping in her wake, and her two brown bun-tails swishing in the air behind her._

 _Both children vanished once she rounded the corner, their tiny bodies nowhere to be seen. Without warning the end of the passage grew darker – a long, all consuming black shadow – engulfing all in its path._

" _WAIT FOR ME ANAKIN, I'M COMING!" Padmè screamed, clasping at her belly and rushing headlong into the abyss._

 _Two gut-churning screams coursed through the darkness. They echoed from nowhere and everywhere. She ran harder, her eyesight flashing in and out with each laboured breath._

 _Suddenly she fell._

 _Forever falling ..._

 _And falling ..._

 _Deeper ... and deeper._

 _Hitting the cold hard floor with a thump, she strained to lift her aching head and opened her eyes. Suspended in the air before her was Anakin. Not Vader ... but Anakin. He was exactly how she remembered him before Mustafar. Long hair, tanned skin, muscular and lean._

 _But he was limp, hanging lifelessly in the air, suspended by an invisible force._

" _Ani, wake up!" she cried, struggling to get up. Every limb felt heavy as she rolled on her side and pushed to her knees. "Ani, please!"_

 _His crystal blue eyes fluttered open weakly before closing again._

" _NO!" she screamed, clambering to her feet and rushing toward him._

 _The walls suddenly burst into life, coursing with radiant streaks of sizzling blue lightning. "Wait for me!" she cried, surging ahead._

 _Two tiny, clammy hands gripped hers and pulled her to a grinding halt. Her eyes darted to her sides, staring at the little girl and boy that had joined her._

" _No mummy, it's a trick. You can't go!" they cried in unison, tugging forcefully on her arms._

 _She blinked through her tears. "We have to save him!" she yelled, fighting their grip._

" _It's a trick!" the boy pleaded._

" _Padmè ..." his voice croaked once again in her head. But the figure before her hadn't moved. Even his lips hadn't twitched._

 _She stared at the two children beside her in a panic._

" _Run ..." his voice whispered again. "Padmè ... run."_

 _She didn't know what to do. Her heart was pounding. She glanced between the image of her husband and back to her two children. He was warning her. He had to be. Their children knew and they were trying to protect her._

 _A malicious cackling resonated from every corner of the lightning. She spun in circles, searching everywhere. The cackling got louder, screaming inside her mind and ringing in her ears._

" _PADMÈ ... RUN ... NOW!" his robotic voice boomed._

 _She was paralysed. Black smoke plumed up from the floor between her and the figure of her husband. It rose and grew, manifesting itself right before her eyes. Two glowing yellow orbs hung in the shadow, boring through into her very soul._

 _The malevolent mass swirled and lunged, its burning twisted hand grabbing her forcefully and dragging her forward._

" _No Mummy, you can't leave us!" the children cried chasing after her. "Daddy is coming!"_

 _A roar of thundering footsteps sounded from behind. She craned her neck to see over her shoulder, fighting the pull of the sinister shadow._

 _An almighty boom rocked the chamber and the shadow released her, flying back with an ear-piercing shriek. Vader and some other heavily armoured man suddenly charged past her, their long cloaks flapping and red lightsabers thrumming. "I SAID RUN," Vader roared as they both ran headlong into the shadow._

 _The two children grabbed her hands and yanked her toward the exit. "Mummy, we have to leave. Daddy will save us, but he needs us to go," the little boy pleaded._

 _Padmè glanced back to see the lightning close in and swallow the darkness, sizzling and crackling as it stole them from sight. "But what if he needs help? I have to save him! I can't lose him again!"_

" _You have to trust him. If we don't run he'll find us! We have to hide!"_

 _Blinking through the tears, she followed her children and ran out the door, disappearing into the darkness._

Padmè lurched up from the lounge drenched in sweat. Leia was stirring beside her. She pulled the covers up and tucked them around her, trying to keep her tiny body warm.

"Is everything alright Mrs Skywalker?" Ferus asked, leaning on the passenger lounge bulkhead. "You were screaming."

"Yes, thank you Ferus. Just a bad dream," she croaked, straightening her hair. Rising to her feet, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to fix her dress. "How long before we reach Tatooine?"

"We are preparing to drop out of lightspeed now, so it appears you woke up just in time."

"It would appear so," she muttered.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Not a full chapter, just something I thought deserved its own space.


	28. Chapter 25: Mater Amoris

**Chapter 25: Mater Amoris**

 _TATOOINE: LARS HOMESTEAD_

Padmè pulled her cloak in tight, cocooning her daughter within the heavy black velvet. Her stomach was in knots. Standing atop the ramp opening she tried to breathe through her growing anxiety. Obi-wan was waiting out there. Waiting for her ... and she didn't know how to feel about it.

As if simply being on Tatooine wasn't traumatic enough. What with the death of Anakin's mother and the knowledge of what he did to the sand people. Something had snapped in him then, stealing away his child-like innocence and replacing it with a broken man's anguish. Seeing him so distraught and traumatized had affected her too; she wanted to be able to take away his pain, to somehow make it all better. But it always remained. Present in every angered glance, hindering every decision he made.

From that day she no longer saw him as the little slave boy she once met in a junk dealer's shop. He was a broken man in need of support. The same broken man who had only hours earlier declared his undying love for her. A love that she, up until that moment, had been intent on denying.

She wondered how Anakin would feel about her being here. It was silly really. He hated Obi-wan, even more-so now that he was aware of his presence at his children's abduction – possibly involved in it.

What was Obi-wan going to say to her?

What was she going to say to him?

More importantly, is this where he'd been hiding Luke? Was he down there, tucked away from sight on this haunting Outer-rim world?

"Are you coming my lady?"

Enter Caleb, another impressionable young Jedi padawan, no doubt troubled by everything he had bore witness to in these last difficult months. He stood beside her, holding the bag Breha had packed for Leia, cloak pulled up and back in his traditional Jedi garb. In the short time that she'd known him he'd shown remarkably similar traits to Anakin; desperate to help to the point of recklessness and easy to anger, especially with Master Olin. They had shared a heated discussion during their journey, although she was far too lost in her own thoughts to pay attention. She remembered the padawan storming away and disappearing into one of the rear cabins, muttering under his breath. There was now compassion sparkling in his blue eyes, and something else ... was it _fear_? Not that she could blame him, or any of them for that matter. Not after seeing first hand the lengths her Sith Lord of a husband was willing to go to in order to find them. She wondered if they were aware they were being hunted to extinction?

She sighed and nodded to him politely, turning her eyes back to the exit. The young padawan gently placed his free hand on the small of her back and smiled, ushering her forward.

"Come on, I'll help you down," Caleb said, his voice calm and supportive.

"Thank you Caleb," she whispered offering him a faint smile in return.

The slow walk down the ramp was a challenge; her dress skirt trailing along the durasteel around her feet, nearly tripping her up with each careful step. Leia was fast asleep in her arms, her gentle snores coming and going in rhythm with her heart.

Bail and Ferus were already on the ground, quietly talking to a hooded figure positioned just outside the synstone hovel. Padmè sucked in a deep breath, trying in vain to keep a level head. Her boot sank into the gritty sand as she stepped off the ramp, the change in surface catching her off guard. Caleb stabilized her, quickly reaching for her arm and preventing her from toppling over.

"Careful milady, watch your step," the padawan said, releasing her arm when she finally stopped wobbling. "This planet's terrain is a bit harsher than what you're probably accustomed to."

"Thank you for your concern Caleb, but I wasn't exactly thinking about travelling to Tatooine when I chose this attire," she said flatly. Finding her balance, her eyes drifted to the trio of men talking up ahead and locked on to the hooded figure. He must have felt her stare, as he went completely silent and turned to her, his face fully concealed by the hood. She gritted her teeth and fought the sudden flash of anger swelling inside. It wasn't time to create a scene; not out here in the open, not in front of Senator Organa and certainly not with Leia sound asleep in her arms. With another measured breath she followed the padawan forward.

"Take them inside Caleb, quickly," Obi-wan ordered, not taking his eyes off her for a second. "The Jundland Wastes are not safe at night and the Tuskens have been particularly active these last few moons."

"Yes Master," Caleb acquiesced, gently taking her arm and guiding her forward.

He must've sensed her unease, his stare following her as she and Caleb walked past. He hadn't even greeted her, which was most peculiar, especially for him. Obi-wan had always been nothing but polite, overtly so to those he suspected were threatening or displeased. Dragging her eyes away, she focused on the doorway to the small dome-shaped hut and trudged down the stairwell behind the padawan.

"I assume Breha insisted on handing the child over?" Obi-wan asked Bail, his brow furrowing deep over his troubled grey eyes.

The Viceroy looked to the hovel and back to him, his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. "She made a valid point Master Kenobi. Keeping Leia from Padmè was never the agreement. Now that she's alive we have no claim to her, no matter what the situation."

Folding his arms across his chest, the Jedi Master sighed indignantly, his gaze narrowing as he once more glanced from hovel to Senator. "I pray that decision does not cost them their lives Senator Organa. One child I can shield, but two ... and twins at that ..." He let his words trail off, his thoughts running wild. Would he be able to hide their combined force presence from the Sith? Or would their signatures overwhelm him, alerting the Emperor to their existence and worse yet give away their position?

"Be that as it may Obi-wan, I stand by my wife and respect her decision. The children belong with their mother," Bail stated standing tall.

The Jedi stroked his beard, his mind racing. "Have you any news from the scanners?"

Bail shook his head. "No, nothing as yet."

"Perhaps the Empire no longer has any interest in her, Master Kenobi," Ferus said, joining the conversation.

It was an innocent enough conclusion, valid only in the unknowing eyes of those who were unaware of the Sith Lord's former identity. He sighed again. "I wish that were so Ferus." And he truly did, for it would make his job of protecting them a lot less troublesome. No, something else was at play here. He could feel it. "I think it would be wise if you returned to your wife, Senator Organa. If the Empire does indeed come looking for you, at least you will be there to protect her."

Caleb walked up to the dining table and placed the bag down, waiting for Padmè to follow him inside. It was hard being back here, the moment she saw the small room, flashbacks flooded into her mind. She could still see the pained looks on Anakin's face as he rose from his seat to find his mother.

"Is anybody home?" the padawan called out, starting to head for the kitchen.

" _Caleb? Is that you?"_ an excited voice replied from the distance.

"Yeah Jaina it's me. Where are you guys?" he answered, ruffling his hair.

Padmè sauntered in and sat down on the sofa. Leia was beginning to wake, her face scrunching up into a precious yawn and stretching her arms. She still couldn't believe she was finally holding her, one of her miraculous little angels. After ten months she finally had one of her twins, safe and in her arms.

"Padmè?"

The familiar voice startled her. She turned her head toward the voice and smiled. "Sabè!" she cried as her handmaiden hurried from the kitchen. She almost bowled Caleb over, pushing past him so she could run to the sofa. The young blonde Jedi ran behind her, equally excited to see them.

"Milady! I was so worried about you," Sabè cried, dropping down into the seat beside her. "Are you alright? How did you escape?"

A small tear crept down over Padmè's cheek. She stared into the watery brown eyes of her handmaiden and forced a smile. _Escape?_ Is that what she did? Anakin was keeping her there and not permitting her to leave him, but was she trulyhis prisoner? Her head kept saying yes, but her heart said no. She took a deep breath and sighed, turning her eyes back to her daughter who was quietly staring up at her. "I'm fine Sabè," she whispered, not willing to answer the other question.

The handmaiden dropped her hand to rest on her shoulder, peering up into her eyes. When she spoke her voice was little more than a whisper, but edged with aggression. "What happened? Did he hurt you milady?"

She sighed again. How could she explain what she'd seen and been through since the last time they saw her? How the guilt of leaving Anakin there at the mercy of his master was now eating away at her. The way his heartbroken cries pleading to her were tearing her apart inside. She was no more a prisoner than what he was. Trapped by one stupid, life altering decision that he would now have to live with for the rest of his seemingly tortured and painful life. He needed her, now more than ever. And here she was, sitting safely in the home of the only semblance of a family he had left, cradling their daughter against her breast. Dropping her head into her hand, she broke down.

Jaina pulled away from Caleb's embrace and moved to kneel at Padmè's feet, resting her hand upon her trembling knee. "Mrs Skywalker, would you like me to hold Leia for a bit? You seem exhausted," she whispered.

Unable to answer, Padmè simply nodded, moving her arms so the young Jedi could take her daughter. It was all just too much and she couldn't be strong anymore. All she wanted was for them to be a family and raise their children together in the sanctuary of the Lake house on Naboo. The tears continued to fall, coming in waves as the former Queen and Senator finally gave in to her grief.

Standing in the doorway, leaning on the synstone wall was Obi-wan. He watched as she broke down, the once head-strong and idealistic young Senator now shattered and defeated, giving in to her built up pain and heartache. With a deep breath, he looked up to Caleb still standing by the stairwell to the kitchen. "Caleb," he said, shifting his feet, "You best go, Senator Organa and Master Olin are waiting for you. They wish to leave before the ship is located."

The padawan nodded. "Yes Master Kenobi." He walked to Jaina, now sitting on the floor with Leia and placed his hand on her shoulder. Jaina looked up at him, tears dancing in her crystal blue eyes. "Take care, short-stuff. Keep in touch," he whispered.

"You too Caleb. May the force be with you," she replied, a slight waver in her voice.

"May the force be with you too." He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to release his building anxiety. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was the last time he was going to see her. Something kept whispering at him, prodding and festering deep in the shadows of his subconscious. With one final glance into her captivating eyes he turned away and left through the door, knowing that from this moment on, their destinies were no longer entwined.

"Obi-wan," Beru called from the door to the kitchen. The Jedi looked up and saw the question lingering in her expression. He knew what she was thinking, could see it written in the way she held her mouth, saw it dancing in the sparkle hiding in her eyes. He glanced at Padmè then back to Beru, understanding exactly what she expected of him.

He lowered his hood and brushed his hand through his auburn hair, battling with himself. With a long exhausted sigh, he walked over to the sofa and knelt beside Jaina, giving her a brief nod before gazing up at his sobbing friend. "Padmè," he croaked, gently taking her trembling hand.

Tear filled hazel eyes silently stared back at him. It was difficult to distinguish the myriad of emotions hidden behind her gaze, but anger, resentment, confusion and bitter heartache were all clearly visible, with each emotion ducking and weaving in and around the other like an emotional thunderstorm threatening to unleash. He took another deep breath and held her gaze. "Would you come with me for a moment?" he asked weakly, as if the words themselves would break her if spoken too loud.

She silently nodded, wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her cloak and allowed him to help her up from the sofa. He guided her past Jaina on the floor and over to where Beru was waiting in front of the stairwell doorway. He looked up at her and she nodded back in approval, turning to lead them both down the stairs.

The three of them walked through the kitchen and down a small passage, dimly lit with small cabin lights on each of the cream textured walls. At the end were three doors, one directly in front and another either side. Beru opened the one to the left and headed inside.

Before entering Obi-wan turned to Padmè and took both her hands in his, holding them pleadingly between them. He stared into her eyes, silently begging her forgiveness. "Padmè," he whispered, "I know this is going to be a lot for me to ask but ... please try not to scream."

She stared at him in complete silence, tilting her head and narrowing her gaze. He took another deep breath and slowly guided her into the room.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: DARTH VADER'S FORTRESS_

 _BEEP, BEEP._

 _BEEP, BEEP._

 _BEEP, BEEP._

Aleria awoke with a start, her eyes groggily darting around the maintenance room. She panicked for a moment thinking that the beeping she'd heard was coming from the heart monitor attached to the bacta tank. Thankfully, it was still steadily ticking away, not flat-lining as she initially feared. The beeping sounded again and she brushed her tools aside on the workbench, searching for her comm-unit. She picked it up.

" _Aleria, is he awake yet?"_ the Emperor sneered, seemingly more agitated than usual.

She yawned and glanced back at the tank. "No My Lord. Still no change," she replied wearily.

" _I had expected Lord Vader to have returned to us before now. What's keeping him?"_

"He appeared to be waking several hours ago, going by the sudden spike in his heart rate and increased blood pressure. But shortly after he slipped straight back into stasis," she said walking over to the bacta tank and staring at it. "His body suffered an extensive amount of critical muscular and neurological trauma resulting in the systematic shutdown of all of his vital systems. It could be some time before he wakes yet."

A low growl resonated through the comm-unit. Aleria shook her head, watching the green laser indicator peak and trough with the Dark Lord's heart beat.

" _Interesting ..."_ the Emperor muttered. " _Very well Doctor. Alert me the moment he wakes. I wish to speak with him."_

Rolling her eyes, she nodded. "As you wish, My Lord." With a heavy sigh she switched off the transmission and stared at the convalescing Sith. Resting her hand on the duraglass, she huffed. "Take your time in there, My Lord. Nothing good awaits you outside the bacta. Whatever you did this time has really displeased him."

Another round of expelled bubbles leapt to the surface, momentarily obscuring his sleeping face. She tied her messy red hair back up and returned to the workbench. Pulling the hover stool out, she sat down and assessed her work. The skeletal structure of both cybernetic legs were almost complete. The main struts were reinforced, with insulating casings surrounding each gear and gyro. "I think I need a caff before attaching the connectors," she groaned getting back up from her seat. She pointed to the tank. "Now don't you go going anywhere, I'll be back in a minute," she quipped before turning and heading out the door.

Vader's eyes rapidly flicked left and right beneath his closed lids. Another burst of bubbles cascaded from the breathing mask and shot to the surface. His torso suddenly jerked before going completely still.

• • •

 _The pain is finally gone. Shifting my feet, I stare out at the floor below. I can hear Darth Malgus breathing beside me, his respirator hissing in time to my own. "Where are we this time?" I ask him._

" _This is one of the many Sith training facilities that used to exist before the rule of two was invoked," he replies taking a step forward and bracing both hands on the balustrade._

 _By my count there are at least thirty of them, all cloaked in black hooded robes, kneeling on the grey stone floors before three masters. I step forward and join Malgus by the balustrade. "They seem quite young."_

 _He nodded. "The acolytes range in age from nine years to twenty three. No younger and no older."_

" _How were potentials acquired?"_

" _Unlike the archaic practice of the Jedi, potential Sith acolytes were more often than not identified and surrendered to the Order by members of their own family." He turns to me his yellow eyes filled with something akin to pride and reverence. "To become a Sith Warrior was a great honour in many Outer-rim territories. This facility in Dromund Kaas was one of the most prestigious of its time ... and one of the last."_

 _We move from the balcony and head back into the main chamber. The vaulted ceilings stretch so high they defy the light. Grand columns adorn every wall, and positioned before them are more of the hooded statues from my previous vision of Korriban. This place, much like the ancient temple, exudes power. It flows around me, beneath me, above me and through me. It is intoxicating and I can't help but bask in its strength. Striding between the statues I find myself wondering, for beings so powerful with the force, how was it they were repeatedly defeated by the Jedi. Malgus is silent, lost in his own thoughts. As we pass the central spire, I turn to him. "I find it curious how your mistress is not with you."_

" _Eleena was not needed for this conversation. However, she is always with me," he says distantly not breaking his pace. He stops suddenly and whirls to face me. "Yours on the other hand ..."_

" _My_ wife _is also required elsewhere. She will return when the time is right," I growl back, clenching my fists. Even as the words leave my mouth, the doubt in the back of my mind festers and grows. She loves me, I know she'll be back. She just needs time._

" _I see," he says, resuming his stride._

 _We walk on in silence, approaching another vast chamber. The sound of lightsabers humming and clashing filters through my helmet. "So Malgus, if this Sith Order was so powerful, how was it destroyed?"_

 _He hits the security panel on the side of the door and sidesteps, gesturing for me to enter. "As is with the nature of the Sith, internal contests for power and bickering for control corrupted the hierarchy. Eventually through constant betrayal and deceit the order collapsed."_

 _I head into the chamber, and he follows. Red flashing sabers and thundering war cries rain down, temporarily blinding me. I pause in the shadows of the overhanging corridor and watch the Sith warriors spar in all of their malevolent glory._

" _The sparring chamber," Malgus states from behind my shoulder. "A place where each warrior's strength is tested and weakness identified. Many hopefuls never leave this arena."_

" _They spar to the_ death _?" I ask, unable to hide the confusion in my tone. "How is that constructive?"_

" _There is no tolerance for weakness in the Sith Academy. It's survival of the fittest to the nth degree."_

 _I don't understand the point in all this. Why has he brought me here? To show me a grand army that is intent on tearing itself apart from the inside. "What is the point of this exercise Malgus?" I growl whirling to face him, barely containing my growing irritation._

" _Lord Vader, the point is to show you what can be achieved. With proper guidance and instruction a Sith Army is indestructible. Combine that with the balance of light and you will be undefeatable, unmatched, the true Sith'ari, as it was originally foretold."_

 _I grind my teeth together. "You believe I need an army to take down my Master? Is that how pathetic you perceive me to be?"_

 _He laughs urging me forward and ignoring my flagrant display of annoyance at his suggestion. "No, not Sidious. The army is to take control of the Empire. To eradicate the remaining threat of the Jedi from the face of the galaxy."_

 _We head back into the main chamber. I stop and fold my arms. "And just how am I supposed to attain such an army?"_

" _That I will show you."_

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE: EMPEROR'S THRONE ROOM_

Darth Sidious sat looking out at his Empire, watching as the insipid beings of Coruscant went about their meaningless lives. He could've sworn his apprentice had awoken from the tremors he'd sensed during his meditation. Finding that Nabooian wife of his was proving more difficult than he first expected. He'd managed to follow Vader's bond with her through the force, tracking her down across the galaxy. But just as she was falling for his trap, bringing her location into view, something had blocked him. Something _powerful._

It was disturbing.

Then to find out his apprentice was still in stasis ...

He now couldn't sense her. Something else was protecting her, shielding her away from him, and the force was in chaos. Twisting and turning. Swirling and curling. Whispering and screaming.

Somewhere along the way, he'd missed something.

Something massive.

And now the force was rejoicing. The light side resurfacing. Rising. Growing. Like an obnoxious flame that refused to be extinguished.

Steepling his claw-like fingers together in his lap, he descended into the darkness, feeling out along his force-bond to his convalescing apprentice. He could see his broken body suspended in the bacta. Could feel the turbulent waves of hatred and despair; his bloodlust, his thirst for revenge. The dark side welcomed him, enclosing around him and assuaging his fears.

The foolhardy and defiant young Jedi was once again beaten down and forced into submission. _Anakin Skywalker,_ the chosen one, was fading back behind the shadows and the _Sith_ was now rising.

His lips twisted into a victorious sneer. The light wasn't coming from here on Coruscant. Standing from his throne, he paused by the window and congratulated himself. His beloved wife's decision to escape had successfully given him back his apprentice. She'd unknowingly delivered him straight back into his clutches by shattering his trust. And his powers were multiplying. Soon Darth Vader would be back, standing obediently by his side, patiently waiting for his chance to destroy him.

And like each time before, he would remind him ... that _he_ was the master.

* * *

 _TATOOINE: JUNDLAND WASTES: LARS HOMESTEAD_

Padmè couldn't breathe, grabbing hold of the crib she tried to steady herself. She had them both now. Her children. _Their_ beautiful children. If only Anakin could've been here to see them.

Luke was deep in sleep, his angelic little face peaceful and calm. His hair was blonde, just like his father's used to be and almost as thick. He had his eyelashes too, luxurious and long, gently resting upon the curve of his cheeks. She wanted so badly to pick him up and cradle him against her chest. To feel his tiny heart beating in time with her own. "He looks just like him," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

"He has his eyes," Obi-wan said, gently dropping his hand to rest on her shoulder.

She wanted to shrug out of his touch, to push him away, but there was something in the way that he said those words. A subtlety that caught her off guard. There was pain in that statement and she suddenly didn't have the heart to force him away. "I hope not," she choked.


	29. Chapter 26: Excitare

**Chapter 26: Excitare**

After another sleepless night interrupted by memories, Obi-wan staggered into the living area and sat down at the dining table. Jaina and Sabè were both seeing to the twins, trying to feed them their breakfast. The food was being spread all over the table, with both Luke and Leia's faces covered in some white pureed substance. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he gazed around the room, noting the still empty seats.

"Where is everyone?" he asked with a yawn.

Jaina looked up at him with mixed emotions. "Owen and Beru both headed into Mos Espa. One of the vaporators was attacked last night and they needed to buy some parts."

"And Padmè?" he asked.

The two women looked to each other before continuing with the twins.

"She hasn't spoken a word since last night," Sabè said, wiping Luke's face with a cloth. "I think she went to the workshop."

He picked up the hot pot sitting on the table and grabbed one of the cups, pouring himself a caff. He twisted the cup around in his hands deep in thought. There were so many ways this conversation could go, judging by the turbulent emotions he sensed from her last night. In truth he wanted to avoid it. He didn't want to talk about Anakin. It still hurt far too much. But with Padmè here, it seemed that avoiding it was now impossible. Taking a sip from his caff, he pushed out his chair and rose from the table. "Well, I suppose I should go talk to her," he grumbled.

"Good luck Master," Jaina said, waving another spoonful of mush toward Leia.

"You're going to need it," Sabè snipped, shooting him a knowing glance.

He took another deep breath and nodded to the two women before heading back out into the central crater. _I've got a bad feeling about this,_ he mused, crossing the sandy floor and approaching the workshop stairwell.

The comm-unit burned in her trembling hands. Twice she'd tried to contact him and still he hadn't answered. Her stomach twisted and turned as she paced back and forth before the old swoop-bike. Not being able to reach Anakin worried her. So much so that she had to fight the overwhelming urge to vomit the more she thought about it. Was he alright? Was he ignoring her because she'd hung up on him back on Alderaan? Or was it something else? Something worse?

"No," she admonished, shaking her head. "He's fine, nothing has happened to him."

"Woo-roo," Artoo whistled behind her.

She turned to the astromech and dropped down before him, stroking her hand across his domed head. "We'll all be together again soon Artoo. You'll see."

A glowing hologram shot from his projector, displaying the familiar scene of their wedding. She stared at it, fighting back tears. "Turn that off now," she snapped, jumping to her feet and wiping her eyes. "It's not helping."

He rolled back and the vision disappeared. "Ooooh-ooo," he whistled again.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and tried to breathe through her anxiety. "I'm sorry Artoo," she whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor. "It's just ... I don't know what to do. I need to talk to him."

"Need to talk to who, Padmè?"

She spun around to see Obi-wan standing in the doorway. She wasn't in the mood to talk to _him,_ not now. Why wasn't Anakin answering? It wasn't like him, he always answered her calls. Propping her hands on her hips she stood tall, glaring at the Jedi. "It's rude to sneak up on people Obi-wan."

He cocked his brow and took a sip from his cup. "I thought you'd be out there with Luke and Leia," he said stepping down the stairs.

"I needed a chance to think ... _in private._ " Would he take the hint? Or was he going to push the issue as he always did with her, never knowing when to simply walk away.

"Yes, well I guess you would have a lot to think about." He walked around the workshop, casually drinking his caff, his eyes dazedly gazing at every surface.

No, push the issue, as expected. Why couldn't he have done this with Anakin? Why did he always try and pump her for information? If only he'd have been more concerned with his former padawan and actually prodded him, he could've helped him. Could've prevented ... _everything._ "What do you want?" Padmè asked.

"Jaina won't come down here. She says the room holds too much darkness," he muttered, staring at the dusty swoop-bike. "I find it interesting that you chose to think in this room."

Another ploy for information, was he so stuck in his ways that he never bothered to find out about what transpired here all those years ago? Surely Anakin must have told him at some point. He was his Master, his teacher, his adoptive father for all intents. She shrugged her shoulders and went to leave. "Read into it however you wish, it makes no difference to me," she said heading for the stairs.

He spun to face her. "What in the blazes happened here Padmè?" he asked. "What did I miss?"

She stopped deathly still, clutching her stomach. He obviously didn't know, the desperation leaching through his voice was indication enough. Another tragic failure on his part. "Perhaps, if you had actually bothered to ask Anakin that yourself, we wouldn't be in this mess," she retorted, pouring all of her anger into the statement.

"Ask him about what? Tell me Padmè! I need to know."

Now he needs to know? Why? What can he do with it now? It's too late for him to care, he's gone, irreparably so. Far too little, too late. "Not anymore you don't," she shot back. "He is no longer your burden Obi-wan, remember? What he did or didn't do is none of your concern."

"Why won't you tell me?" He slammed his cup onto the workbench and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration.

She stormed back down the stairs and glared at him, jabbing her finger at his face. "Because _you_ broke my trust! You betrayed _me._ "

"I needed to find him, I'm sorry -"

"YOU'RE SORRY?"

"Padmè, I am. I am so sorry for what happened to you. If I had known you were still alive-"

"You what? Would've split us all up to make sure that Anakin never found us?"

"You know that's not true."

"No?" she snarled turning away. "Forgive me if I don't believe you, _Master_ _Kenobi._ "

He stepped closer, trying to reach out to her. "Padmè please."

She stared up at the ceiling. "Nine months I spent crying myself to sleep while Sabè and my family tried to keep me together. Nine months Obi-wan. I'd lost everything: my career, my husband, my children, my friends." She whirled to face him, fighting back the tears threatening to fall. "And you stand here, telling me that you're _sorry_?"

He silently looked down at his feet.

She started to pace, shaking her head. "You know ... I can forgive you for taking my children because they are healthy and safe. I can even forgive you for stuffing my body in a box and shipping me away when you thought I was dead ..." She paused and took two deep breaths, clenching and unclenching her hands. Images of Anakin's broken body flooded into her memory, his cybernetic legs, his scarred and burned skin. How he must've suffered during those last fateful hours, how he still suffers now. Despite knowing what he'd done at the Jedi Temple, she still loved him, he was still her husband, the father of her children. "But there are some things I cannot and will not forgive you for Obi-wan."

"What things are they?" he asked, stroking his beard.

Her eyes grew dark, as if all warmth had suddenly died out and been replaced by the stark ice-cold chill of space itself. "For betraying my trust and sneaking on board my ship. For not trying to reach out and pull Anakin back when he needed you most. And mostly ... the biggest most disgusting and inhumane action that I had no idea you as a person was even capable of ..."

She stormed up to him and jabbed her finger right in his face, so close that he could feel her warm breath dance over his skin. "For the way you maimed my husband in such a violent and horrific manner, then left him to _burn_ _alive_ when you could have, and _should have,_ put an end to his suffering. For that I will _never_ forgive you _."_

Tears welled in his eyes, and the cool calm Jedi Master finally disintegrated under her attack. "I – I couldn't _do it_ Padmè! I just couldn't."

Her chest was heaving, the tight sweaty bodice of her dress making every breath harder. "Obviously," she hissed. "Tell me Obi-wan, does Master Yoda know of your failure? Did you tell him that you were too attached to Anakin to kill him?"

The Jedi shook his head. "No, to be honest, I didn't know he had survived until just recently."

"I see," she muttered beneath her breath, walking over to lean on the wall by the bike. All this time he'd believed him to be dead. If he didn't sound so defeated, so uncharacteristically aggrieved, she would have continued with her assault. Staring at the swoop bike, she could still see Anakin aimlessly tinkering, trying to keep his mind off his mother's passing.

After a long awkward silence, they both calmed down, seemingly more at ease now the tensions had been released.

"Did you know his mother died in his arms?" she whispered, not taking her eyes from the bike.

He looked up at her from beside the workbench. "I had no idea," he answered.

"Thinking back, I think a big part of him died with her that night ..." she continued, walking back into the workshop, eyes fixed to the floor. "He made them suffer for it of course, and rightly so."

Obi-wan stiffened, suddenly listening very intently. "Made who suffer for what?"

Her head snapped up, her eyes filled with angry tears. "The Tusken Raiders. They tortured poor Shmi, that's why he kept having those dreams about her. They were visions of what was happening to her at the hands of those monsters."

His eyes found the floor and his heart sank. All that time he was seeing his mother, those dreams he kept telling him about, and he'd told him they'd pass. That they were just dreams and nothing more. He sighed. "What did he do to them?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

She shook her head, not looking at him. "I don't know exactly, but I know that he killed them. He killed _all_ of them." When she looked back at him then, it was like she was somewhere else, staring off into the air. "Whatever he did terrified the life out of him. We sat in here on the floor, by that very workbench. I held him tight while he shivered and sobbed into my chest."

"Is that when you realized you loved him?"

She nodded, wiping her eyes and walking over to slump down on the steps. "For years we kept our relationship a secret, stealing whatever time that we could."

Obi-wan sat down beside her, placing his arm over her shoulder. He'd known they were close, too close for his liking. But when Jaina told him of their clandestine marriage, it was as if she'd plunged a knife right into his chest. How could he have missed this? Of course his suspicions were elevated upon seeing Padmè's condition when they returned to Coruscant. Should he have said something then? Would things have been different if he'd actually confronted Anakin about it? Was his ignorance in part to blame for what happened? "And then you fell pregnant," he whispered.

"And then I fell pregnant," she agreed dropping her head into her hands. "That's when the nightmares started and he ... he ..." She burst into tears unable to finish the sentence.

He rubbed her back trying to keep himself together. Just seeing her again had dredged up all of his pain, and now hearing things from her perspective, seeing how much she was hurting, he didn't know what to say.

"He became obsessed Obi-wan. Convinced I was going to die giving birth to our child, or children as it turned out. He got more and more distant. He stopped eating, he never slept ..." She looked up at him in complete despair. "And I couldn't do anything. I couldn't tell anyone. I had no-one to turn to."

"You could've come to me Padmè," he said, taking her trembling hand. "I already had my suspicions about you two."

"What? And have him get angry at me for going to you behind his back? You know how he would've felt about that."

Obi-wan went silent, knowing exactly what she meant. He wondered what he could've done differently, if perhaps he'd have said something ... or done something that could've altered his path. "I miss him so much," he said, before he could stop himself. It was a mistake to say it and he immediately regretted it. Padmè stiffened beside him and instantly shot to her feet.

" _Really_?" she snapped, crossing her arms. "I find that hard to believe after what you did to him."

"He was trying to _kill_ me Padmè! I had no choice," he yelled back, jumping to his feet. "I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen." The tortuous vision replayed. _You were my brother Anakin. I loved you._ Those golden eyes haunted him, forever staring, forever watching, the blazing fire never burning out. Sure, Anakin may not have died on Mustafar that night ... but _Obi-wan Kenobi_ , the Jedi, did.

"He would've listened if you had said what he needed to hear Obi-wan."

He wiped the tear from his eye, and gazed up at her in confusion. "Oh? And what was that exactly?"

She stabbed her finger wildly in the air. "That you loved him, that you cared about him."

Obi-wan shook his head in despair. "Palpatine's claws were already in too deep by that point. He was gone, lost in his anger. I couldn't get through to him."

She stormed up to him, grabbing his shoulders and staring into the very core of his being. "Then help me Obi-wan. Help me save him. Help me bring him back."

He stared at her, seeing that defiant sparkle twinkling in those deep, strong chocolate pools. So many visions flashed before his eyes: the security holograms, the deceased Jedi in the temple and two burning Sith yellow eyes glaring up from the ashen shores of Mustafar. He averted his gaze and sighed in defeat. "I – I can't Padmè. I'm sorry I just can't."

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: DARTH VADER'S FORTRESS_

Two days had passed and Lord Vader still showed no signs of waking. For hours she'd toiled over his new and improved prosthetics – only stopping briefly to shower, eat and power-nap – and they were finally complete.

Aleria yawned, stretching her aching back and admiring her work. She had outdone herself this time. The two prosthetic limbs were better than she'd envisioned and she couldn't wait for the convalescing Dark Lord to see them. Surely he would be impressed. The new alloy was far superior to that of the originals, stronger, lighter, more refined. She'd even encased them this time, fusing a combination of insulating synth-flesh and synth-skin with the main structure, so seamlessly they appeared almost lifelike.

Not that they could protect him from lightning, but at least, having the implant connectors insulated where they attached to his legs, would prevent the current from using his prosthetics as an electrical super-highway. No. In order for him to better defend himself against similar attacks, his life-support suit would need modification. Serious modification.

She took a sip from her freshly made caff and stared at the suit draped over the chair in the far corner of the room. The sheer makeup of its design offered little-to-no resistance to electrical impulses. Every component interlaced with different sensors implanted within his body. She could insulate those, but the question was, would it affect his ability to operate it?

An exhausted sigh escaped her lips. Doing anything to his suit was simply out of the question. At any moment he could wake, needing its support. The only option left now was to design him a new one. A stronger one. One capable of deflecting the crippling energy away from his already shattered flesh.

She pulled out her datapad and started researching her new project. There had to be an answer somewhere, she just needed to find it. Seconds became minutes. Minutes quickly turned into hours.

So lost in her work, she failed to hear the elevated shift in the heart monitor rhythm. Didn't notice the increased bursts of expelled bubbles making their way to the surface of the tank. And didn't see two flaming amber eyes suddenly fly open within the green bacta, burning brighter than the landscape scorching twin suns of Tatooine.

* * *

 _TANTIVE III: HYPERSPACE: ON APPROACH TO ALDERAAN_

" _Bail,"_ a silky female voice crackled through the ship's command center. " _I hope you know what you're doing._ "

The Viceroy smiled, glancing to the pair of Jedi seated beside him. " _When do I not know what I'm doing, Mon?_ "

The serene voice belonged to none other than Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrilla, a close friend and colleague of both his and Padmè's during the Republic's final days. She was secretly helping him fund and support their building rebellion through the Imperial Senate, identifying sympathizers and possible financiers to oppose the New Empire. His decision to liberate their old friend from her imprisonment was concerning her. Not so much the action itself, for she too cared for the Nubian Senator, but the subsequent fallout and the effect it could have on their plans should an investigation take place.

" _I just went to your office only to find two Imperial Sentry Guards manning the doors. Was it worth the risk?_ "

"She needed our help, how could I refuse her? Senator Amidala was always fiercely opposed to the formation of the Empire. She will join us, I'm sure of it."

" _Her support would have served us better in the Senate Bail, regardless as to what position she was in."_

He sighed. "I couldn't just leave her to suffer Mon, she's already been through enough. I'm confident in my decision. With Padmè on our side, more systems will join us, and let's face it, we need all the help we can get."

The transmission went quiet and the ivory clad Chandrillan looked apprehensively through the visualizer. " _Has she agreed? Have you discussed our plans with her?"_ she eventually asked.

"Not yet, she was too shaken. When the right time presents itself, I will ask her."

" _Very well Bail, I will await your confirmation of her allegiance. Mothma out."_

• • •

The Tantive III broke through the heavy cloud cover, buffeted by gale force winds and sheets of blinding white snow. Descending between the mountainous peaks, it slowed its approach, slipping between the rugged landscape and following a long, winding valley. Snow capped trees whipped passed either side, the force of the Corvette's thrusters agitating them as it rumbled onward.

In the distance, nestled between the scarp sat a large duracrete bunker, covered in snow. It swallowed the ship and the massive blast door lowered behind it, concealing it from sight.

"Where are we?" Caleb asked, stopping at the foot of the ramp by his Master's side. His eyes wandered over the myriad of different starfighters amassed within the deceptively large hangar. Men and women of all ages, dressed in similar uniforms busily moved around them, seemingly preparing for something.

The Viceroy turned to face them, a solemn smile gracing his forlorn features. "Gentlemen, welcome to Balana Valley, the home of Hope One, one of the first outposts of the _Alliance_."

"This is quite a following you have here, Senator. Where did you find so many beings willing to stand against the Empire?" Ferus asked.

Bail smiled. "From all over really. Emperor Palpatine may have many supporters, but like most leaders, not all agree with the new restrictions the Empire has placed on their homeworlds."

"Like who?" Caleb asked.

"Local traders, spice-miners, self ex-communed military officers ..." he turned to them, placing his hand gently on the Jedi Master's robed shoulder. "And hopefully two Jedi knights."

Master and Padawan looked at each other. After a brief moment of silence they both nodded to the Viceroy. "It would be an honour to join you. What can we do to help?" Ferus asked.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: DARTH VADER'S FORTRESS_

The steady hiss in and out of Vader's respirator filled the chamber. He staggered awkwardly around before the redheaded doctor, trying to get a feel for his new legs. They were still heavy, but not nearly as cumbersome as their predecessors.

"And you say that you made these yourself, Doctor?" he rumbled, turning to face her.

"Yes My Lord," she answered from her seat by the workbench.

He strode back and forth, his boots still thundering on the marble with each laboured step. To his surprise they fit remarkably well, no longer snagging and pulling on his skin. "Impressive. Most impressive." He whirled to her, folding his arms upon his chest. "Your skills are indeed a welcome surprise."

She spun around and brought up her designs on the datapad. "I have insulated the main adapters and servo-motors to try and reduce their susceptibility to lightning. However, there is no way to know for certain how effective it is until they are tested."

He moved to the work bench, looming over her shoulder to look at the schematics. "That is not something I intend on testing any time in the near future, Doctor."

"No, I would guess not," she whispered.

He sensed her burning need to ask questions, amidst the pride in him appreciating her efforts. As pleased as he was with the new prosthetics his mind was elsewhere, focused on finding Padmè and leaving this wretched planet as soon as possible. "How long have I been out?" he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her sudden nervousness permeating the air. "You were in stasis for two days. I wasn't even sure you'd survive when I put you into the tank."

"It takes more than a little lightning to kill me," he replied, heading for the door. "You should know that by now."

She leapt to her feet. "Wait," she said as he went to leave.

He stopped by the door.

"Is everything alright?" she asked. "With your wife I mean. I haven't seen her around."

His uncharacteristically pleasant mood suddenly turned sour. With a rumbling growl, he clenched both hands and went rigidly still. He should kill her for asking such an inappropriate question. He could, and very nearly did. But her unique skills were useful, both now and in the times to come. Finding adequate cybernetics specialists was not easy, especially ones that he believed he could almost trust. After several cycles of his respirator he stormed out the door, leaving the Doctor alone in his chamber without answering.

Reaching the war room, Vader stopped by his command console to check his messages. Sometime during the last two days his comm-unit had gone flat and he connected it to the port to charge it. The missed calls flashed up on his screen when it eventually powered up. One from his Master and two from Commander Appo, which he knew were really from Padmè. He punched in her signal and waited for her to answer.

It rang off.

He tried it again.

Still no answer.

Where was she? And why wasn't she answering? He turned on the tracker and tried to trace down the signal. No response. He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist into the console. There was only one option left now, he'd have to find her himself, the hard way.

But first he needed to contact his Master, no doubt he would be expecting him to make contact the moment he awoke. Entering in his code, he stepped back and dropped to his knee.

The translucent blue image of Darth Sidious rezzed into life, hovering above the command console and almost touching the ceiling. _"Ah, you're finally awake, my apprentice."_

"Yes, My Master." Just the sound of his voice was enough to set every nerve on edge, stoking the fire slowly rising inside him. He bit down on his tongue in a bid to control his urge to lash out, the rusty taste of his blood seeping into his mouth.

" _Good_ ," he purred.

Immediately the probing commenced and Vader slammed up his shields preventing his entry. Wave after wave assaulted him, trying to break through his impenetrable defences. He held strong, keeping his mind focused and his will intact. He wasn't getting in this time, not without a fight.

After a few minutes, the attacks ceased and his Master sneered in disgust. " _You are displeased with me, I can feel your anger._ _I warned you the last time what would happen. You didn't listen and so paid the price._ "

Vader didn't answer, choosing to remain silent. He didn't want to raise suspicions, unsure as to whether his Master had actually found Padmè and locked her away somewhere to use as leverage against him. Lowering his shields ever-so-slightly, he allowed his desire to start his search, to drift between them, watching and waiting for his reaction.

He took the bait instantly.

" _So ... I sense that you wish to start your search for your wife?_ "

Scarred lips smiled victoriously behind the mask. "Yes, My Master," he answered.

There was another long drawn out pause as the elder Sith Lord considered his request. Just as Vader was certain he was going to be denied, his Master broke the silence.

" _Very well, My Apprentice. Go, find your wife and bring her back to me. Then we will see to it that she never escapes again."_

"Thank you Master," he answered, dipping his helmeted head lower. He almost jumped to his feet, having to force himself to remain on his knee when he realised he was still waiting to be dismissed. He looked up at the hologram questioningly.

" _There is one condition, Lord Vader. Under no circumstances is Bail Organa or any other member of this Senate to be executed during your search, do I make myself clear?_ "

"It is clear, My Master."


	30. Chapter 27: Incipit Venari

**Chapter 27: Incipit Venari**

Padmè sat quietly next to Sabè, watching Jaina play with Luke and Leia on the floor. Obi-wan left after their argument, disappearing off to meditate or whatever it was that he busied himself with here. She was glad for it.

The twins giggled and laughed as Jaina covered her eyes repeatedly then went 'Boo!'. They were so perfect. So happy and so full of life. It was hard to believe that she finally had them. Her Mother and Father would adore them too, just as they did Ryoo and Pooja, no doubt spoiling them rotten at every opportunity. If only they could see them.

She wondered how they were. Since the day at the Palace when Anakin found her, she hadn't been able to speak with them. They were probably beside themselves with worry. Mother would be scouring the holonet searching for clues and Father would be using his connections to try and locate her.

She swallowed, trying to suppress the uneasy feeling suddenly brought on by thinking of her family.

She swallowed again, more deliberately this time.

Jumping to her feet, she bolted for the fresher trying to keep the contents of her stomach inside where they belonged. The constant stress and drama finally taking its toll on her. Running down the synstone passage, she was thankful for the tunic and leggings Sabè had leant her, knowing that her dress would've made the present mad dash a challenge. Door after door she pawed at, desperately searching for the right one. Every time she swallowed her stomach would lurch, insisting on her giving in to the impulse. She finally found the fresher, stumbling forward and hastily closing the door behind her.

"Where do you suppose she went in such a hurry?" Jaina asked turning to Sabè across the room.

The handmaiden's face was marked with concern. "I'm not sure," she said getting out of her seat, "but I'm going to check on her."

No sooner had she taken two steps toward the doorway, a strange beeping sounded. She stopped and spun back, staring at Padmè's cloak on the sofa. "What was that?" she asked.

Jaina got up from the floor and joined Sabè at the sofa. The beeping sounded again.

"I think it's coming from Padmè's cloak," the padawan said, bending down to investigate. She dug in the pockets and pulled out a small metallic disc. It beeped again and she instantly dropped it.

"Is that what I think it is?" Sabè asked, staring at the small device.

"It looks like a comm-unit of some sort."

"Is it a Jedi one?"

Jaina shook her head, bending down to retrieve it. Turning the device around in her hands, she inspected it. "No definitely not one of ours. I've never seen one quite like it." It beeped again, a strange series of numbers and letters appeared on the screen written in Aurebesh. "I can't make out the call-sign. It's like it's encrypted or something."

"Should we answer it?" Sabè asked.

"But what if it's stolen? I mean she did just escape from the Palace," Jaina said, looking up to the handmaiden nervously.

"In that case it's probably that monster of a husband of hers trying to find her," Sabè snapped snatching the device from her friend. "Here, let me help you with it." She found the power button and held it down, switching the unit off. The beeping stopped. The screen went blank. "That ought to give him something to think about," she growled, tossing it to Jaina. "Maybe you should give it to Obi-wan when he gets back. Just to be safe."

The blonde padawan looked between comm-unit and handmaiden, torn for what to do. "But Sabè, what if it wasn't him?" she asked. "For all we know it could've been her family."

Sabè folded her arms and huffed. "I don't know, but I will feel a whole lot safer if it is with Obi-wan. If she did steal it and it does belong to the Empire then it can be traced. It's just not worth the risk."

"What's not worth the risk?" Padmè asked joining them.

The two women nervously glanced to each other as Jaina fumbled with the comm-unit.

"What have you got there?" Padmè asked moving closer. "Let me see."

"It's nothing My Lady," Sabè interjected hurrying toward her. "You look terrible, are you alright? Can I get you something?"

"No, I'm fine thank you Sabè. Jaina, show me what's in your hands." Padmè pushed passed her handmaiden and headed straight for the padawan, nervously clutching at the small disc.

"I'm sorry Mrs Skywalker, it started going off and we thought we could bring it to you," Jaina nervously answered, now pinned between the former Queen and the sofa.

"It went off? When? Did you answer it?" she demanded, snatching the comm-unit and trying to turn it on. It beeped twice and went dead in her hands. Tears filled her eyes. He'd tried to contact her and she'd missed him. She'd actually missed him! And now to make matters worse it had finally gone flat. She slumped down onto the sofa and cradled it to her chest, staring at her two children happily playing on the rug.

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER CORUSCANT_

Black cloak flowing, Vader charged onto the Bridge of his flagship. Every officer stood rigidly to attention, their eyes nervously watching his every move. He stopped by the Helm and folded his arms before the Captain and his crew.

"Lord Vader, welcome back on board," the slight man said, adopting a parade stance.

He took a moment to drink in his surroundings. The putrid stench of fear soaked the Exactor's Bridge, originating from every man and woman both above and within the crew pit. It felt ... _intoxicating_ , breathing new life into the Sith, setting off a series of mini fireworks that ignited and exploded within his already agitated body. He fed off the sensation, absorbing it, using it to further attune his senses and slip deeper into the darkness.

"Captain, is the fleet ready?" he demanded, noting the way the officer instinctively flinched at the sound of his voice.

The Captain swallowed. "Ready and awaiting your orders, My Lord," he replied.

"Good. Set your course for the Alderaan System at once."

"As you wish, Lord Vader."

He missed this; missed watching grown men tremble and quiver in his presence. This much power was addictive, seductive, like a drug or tonic, and he was swimming in it. Fully immersed in the knowledge that with a simple flick of his wrist or snap of his fingers, their pitiful little lives would be over _._

Much like that insipid Viceroy if he didn't cooperate.

He whirled on the heel of his armoured combat boot and strode down the gangway to the main viewport. A score of new TIE-fighters screamed past the window and dipped beneath the Exactor's hull, preparing to dock for departure. Three other brand new Imperial Star Destroyers were visible in the distance, slowly moving their gargantuan grey arrowhead-like forms into jump position. Shifting his weight, he dropped his hands and clasped them behind his back, his eyes keenly staring through scarlet lenses at the might of their Empire. One day to become _his_ Empire.

The fleet was ready. The 501st were ready.

 _Vader_ was ready.

"Preparing for the jump to lightspeed, My Lord," the Commander announced from the helm.

With a deep breath, he widened his stance and gave the order, his deep rumbling voice resonating throughout the bridge. "Do it."

* * *

 _ALDERAAN: ROYAL PALACE_

Night was fast approaching on the tranquil forest planet of Alderaan. Ribbons of soft pink spattered the darkening sky, shimmering off the glistening wings of a flock of Giant Thranta, gliding gracefully between the snow-capped mountains. Their shadows danced and frolicked on the pearlescent lake, gently swirling from the fresh night winds.

Situated amidst the serene landscape sat House Organa. The grand palace towered high above the valley and adjacent lake, its gold and white accents gleaming in the pastel dusk light. To some, it was a symbol of peace – of sanctuary – with many refugees of the clone wars seeking comfort within its welcoming walls. To others, it was a beacon of hope. A possible sign of things to come.

With any great change comes resistance. And this palace was the beating heart of that resistance.

Buried deep within the lower depths of the angelic structure, was said heart's eyes and ears. It was filled with security and communications officers discretely monitoring the Core Worlds' hyper-routes, mapping out potential would-be outposts and engaging in casual games like Sabaac and Dejarik.

The hub, outfitted with state of the art holoscreens and map readers, was alive with the constant hum of electronics, and the intermittent blips of ships coming and going on the radars. They were down to skeleton crew now, with most of the officers returning home to their families to rest up before their next shift rotation.

A man in his late thirties, dressed in standard Alderaanian security issue, sat at the comm-scan fighting to stay awake. He pushed back in his chair and stifled his fourth yawn. "Not even two hours in and I'm already struggling. It's going to be a long night," he groaned, spinning around in his seat.

A younger man sitting at the circular map reader lifted his eyes from a holo-book and nodded. "I know what you mean. I can barely keep my eyes open."

"I'm going to grab a caff, you want one?" the older man asked, pushing himself up and stretching.

"Sounds great," the younger man said, turning back to his reading. "I'll keep watch while you're gone."

The older man laughed, shaking his head. "Don't go straining yourself," he remarked, leaving the room.

The younger officer thumbed through the pages of his holo-book, his interest slowly waning. He truly hated the night shift, just like the rest of the officers on duty tonight.

"Hey, you can't do that! It's against the rules," one of his co-officers grumbled from a table behind.

"You're just grumpy because I won, _again,_ " another seated opposite contested.

He glanced over his shoulder. They were playing Dejarik, a type of holo-chess, only in this game, when your playing piece captures one of your opponent's, it gets brutally beaten up and destroyed. He chuckled. Yeah, the night shift brought out the worst in all of them. Especially those two. Rubbing his eyes, he turned his attention to the comm-scan.

"Hold on a minute," he muttered to himself, squinting at the screen. He got up and headed for the terminal, blinking away the dryness that came from staring at a holo-book for too long. "Hey Jex, come here a minute," he called out to the recent Dejarik winner, his hands firmly planted on the chair headrest. "JEX!"

"What?" Jex grunted, shuffling his way over to the station. "This better be important, I was about to go 3-for-3."

"Tell me I'm seeing things."

Both men stared silently at the terminal. Four ships had suddenly appeared on the radar, dropping out of hyperspace and heading for orbit.

Jex rubbed his greying beard, his expression troubled. "No, you're not seeing things. Looks like we've got company, and not in a good way."

"What'd I miss?" the comm-scan officer inquired, hurrying back to his terminal cradling the two steaming caffs. "I leave for two seconds and something actually happens for once, typical." He moved in front of the other two and sat back down in his seat, doing a double-take when he spotted the new call-signs. "Kriff! Get to your stations, who knows what's about to go down," he ordered, quickly grabbing his comm-unit.

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER ALDERAAN_

"Lord Vader, the fleet has arrived and settled into orbit. Shall I ready your shuttle?" the Captain asked, stopping halfway between the viewport and the bridge.

The Dark Lord clenched his fists tighter, glaring at the green and blue planet in disgust. He knew he couldn't just go down there and demand Padmè's whereabouts. No doubt the Viceroy would already be aware of his arrival, using what precious little time he had to spirit her away somewhere. Organa was cunning, even in the face of death he feared the loathsome politician would resist his questioning. He needed leverage. Something he could hold over him that he valued more than simply his own life.

Before he left Coruscant, there had been whispers throughout his Master's never-ending spy network of a developing rebellion. They'd both discussed them in great detail on numerous occasions, completely aware of the Viceroy's implicated involvement. An insignificant band of insurgents posed no threat to their Empire, together they'd known this. But perhaps it could still be used to manipulate him. He could threaten the exposure of his involvement to the Senate, in-turn branding him as a traitor amongst his peers. He just needed evidence.

"My Lord?" the Captain asked, edging closer.

Vader spun to face him. "No Captain. First, deploy the probe droids. I want to know what they're hiding."

"As you wish, My Lord."

• • •

"Your Highness, were you expecting visitors this evening?" There was a brief pause while the Alderaanian comm-scan officer listened to the response, his eyes not once leaving the radar. "Well, four Imperial Star Destroyers just entered orbit, Sire." Another pause. He nodded, blinking rapidly at the screen. "No, not yet. One is the Exactor but I don't recognize the other three, they must be hot off the production line."

The four blips slowed and stopped, successfully entering orbit. He stared at the radar pensively, waiting for any signs of movement. They seemed to be just sitting there, looming above the planet's surface like a pride of hungry nexu stalking their prey. The air was tense. None of the officers dared speak, the weight of possible confrontation forcing them all into a petrified stupor.

Meanwhile, scattered across the planet, a series of black spherical droids whirred into life. One rose in the mountains, lifting up from the snow and unfolding its five articulated manipulator arms. The black metallic domed head swivelled left and right, engaging its sensors and surveying the terrain. Finding nothing of interest, it carried on into the valley, scanning every surface for signs of activity.

An hour later, it reached a large snow-covered structure, embedded deep into the side of one of the surrounding mountains. The droid stopped and zoomed in, picking up the different signals emanating from within. " _Scanner to the system,"_ it relayed in a pitchy robotic code. " _Scanner to the system._ "

"Droid reports coming in Captain. I think we found something," the comm-scan officer announced.

The Captain hurried over from his post, inspecting the live feed on the viewer. "Activate imaging sensors and magnify."

Vader strode to the comm-scan and stopped behind the two officers, folding his arms and staring at the display. Tens of ships of various designs were concealed inside the bunker, accompanied by twice as many identifiable lifeforms. His scarred lips twisted into a victorious sneer. _Leverage,_ he mused darkly. He turned to address the Captain. "Recall the droids and ready my shuttle," he barked, whirling to exit the bridge with a flourish of his cloak.

Teeth clenched and muscles tight, Vader sat anxiously within the main cabin of his shuttle as it hurtled toward the Alderaanian royal palace. He couldn't wait to interrogate the insufferable Viceroy. By the time he was finished with him, even his own wife wouldn't be able to recognize him. He imagined those once friendly – now deceitful – brown eyes bugging out, while he mercilessly forced the air from his duplicitous windpipe. With each murderous thought his heart hammered away, eager to unleash his broiling anger before it exploded.

"This is Imperial Shuttle ST-321, requesting clearance to land," the pilot said over the transceiver.

" _We have you on our scopes Shuttle ST-321. Clearance affirmative. Proceed to Platform One."_

Bail Organa, supported by a handful of his Royal Security detail, stood by the platform watching the gleaming white shuttle approach. Its tripodal wing-foils shifted into position as its sub-thrusters gently slowed its descent. Engines groaning and wingtip lights blinking, the ship touched down on the tarmac, immediately lowering the boarding ramp beneath the frontal cabin. Clone troopers poured onto the platform, spreading out before the shuttle and grouping into two rows, fourteen strong either side. Their armour clattered as they moved into position, raising their blasters to rest on their duraplast clad shoulders.

Obscuring the blinding light originating from the ship's exit, appeared a consuming black mass. The steady hiss in and out of the infamous respirator devoured the silent night air, rasping in time to the hulking thud of his weighted down boots on the durasteel. Bail stiffened upon seeing him. He'd been expecting this since the moment he and Padmè left the Senate.

Striding between the assembled troops, the Dark Lord crossed the platform and stopped before him, moving his hands to rest on his belt. Bail stared up at him, his eyes calmly drifting over his intimidating form. "Greetings Lord Vader," he said, keeping his emotions in check.

The black mask tilted toward him. "Senator Organa," the baritone voice replied.

"To what do we owe the honour of your visit?" he asked, unable to decipher even the slightest hint of the mercenary's body language.

Vader folded his arms and stiffened. "Come now Viceroy," he mocked, "we both know the reason for my being here."

He could feel his men preparing to defend him, their boots shifting on the floor and their blasters twitching in their hands. This was not the time for being rash, Darth Vader was here and now he needed to handle the situation before it suddenly spiralled out of control. Bail sighed and nodded in acceptance. "Perhaps we should continue this meeting inside," he suggested.

"That would be most wise, your men needn't die pointlessly."

Realizing that there was nothing his loyal officers could do should the Dark Lord move to end his life, Bail dismissed all but two of them, gesturing for them to return to base. Leading the way, he guided Vader and his troopers into the palace, the heavy doors thumping closed after them.

Reaching the great hall, Bail sat down in his throne and folded his hands neatly in his lap. Taking a deep breath, he centred himself doing his best to remain calm. "Now, what can I do for you, Lord Vader?" he asked, keeping his eyes locked onto the lenses of his foreboding mask. "I trust you didn't come all this way for a social visit."

The Dark Lord positioned himself in the centre of the hall, flanked by his contingent of clone troopers. Resting his hands in his belt, he stood tall pushing out his chest. "Where ... _is_ ... she?" he growled.

Bail laced his fingers together, his heart beginning to flutter. Was it his imagination, or did it just get noticeably cooler? He fought back a shiver. "I'm sorry?" he said. "As to whom might you be referring?"

Vader toyed with the buckles on his right wrist gauntlet. "Do you think me a fool Viceroy?"

"Not at all My Lord. It's just ..."

"I can order my troopers to conduct a search of the palace and tear it to pieces if you prefer," the Dark Lord interjected. He flicked his wrist, calling the Commander to his side.

Bail's mind immediately went to Breha, still fast asleep in their bedroom. He gripped hold of the armrests. "No!" he said, taking two short breaths before continuing. "I mean, no, that ... that won't be necessary."

The black mask tilted. "No?" Vader asked. He dismissed the trooper, waving him off and then lifted his hand, stabbing the air with his gloved finger. "Then tell me what I want to know. Where _is_ Senator Amidala?"

The Viceroy swallowed. He couldn't give her up to _him_. She was one of his most trusted friends and colleagues, not to mention she was now in hiding with Master Kenobi. If Vader were to find the Jedi, he would no doubt execute him. He tried to steel himself, sitting down and holding his back straight. "I'm sorry Lord Vader, but I don't know where she is. The last time I saw her was at the Senate meeting on Coruscant," he said flatly.

 _LIAR!_ Vader had finally had enough. Without so much as a warning, he lifted the smug Senator into a force choke and suspended him in the air above his throne. "I grow tired of your games, _Viceroy_ ," he hissed, stepping closer. The man's hands gripped futilely around his throat. He pulled him across the distance and held him within arm's reach. Amber eyes flared behind the mask, glaring at Organa's paling face while he struggled to breathe. "Don't think I am unaware of your efforts to try and overthrow the Empire. Four Star Destroyers currently sit in orbit, each with enough fire power to blow your precious little rebellion from the face of the planet."

The Viceroy's eyes went wide in horror. He croaked and gurgled, tugging at the air around his neck.

Vader dropped him to the floor, forcing him to kneel at his boots. Looming over him, he pulled out his lightsaber and ignited it, holding it to his throat. The red blade crackled and hissed, scorching the ice-cold air with its heat. Glaring down at the submissive Senator who was still staring up at him in shock, he gritted his teeth. "While your pathetic little co-op of idealists is of no concern to me _Senator_ ...I will not hesitate in incinerating every last one of them until you tell me the truth."

Bail choked and coughed, still struggling to recover from the Sith's attack. He blinked through the pain-induced tears welling in his eyes. "We are a peaceful people, Lord Vader. Alderaan has always remained supportive of the galactic government, both present and past. Your unfounded accusation of treason is both inflammatory and insulting."

The glowing red blade shifted and gave way for the Sith's boot. It suddenly struck his face with such force, that it knocked him to the floor nearly cracking his jaw. Splayed out on the polished stone, Bail coughed again, a gush of blood spraying from his lips. Two thundering steps closed in as Vader moved to stand over him with his fists tightly clenched in anger.

"WHERE IS PADMÈ? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?" he roared, his booming voice shaking the very foundations of the palace.

The two Alderaanian security guards aimed their weapons and prepared to fire, rushing from the throne to the Viceroy's aid.

Commander Appo and his men immediately moved in kind, flanking their Supreme Commander and cocking their blasters. Thirty-to-two and tensions were getting high. Both parties willing to die for their leaders, yet each waiting for the other to fire first.

The Viceroy glanced at his surroundings, up at the Sith, to the clone troopers, over his shoulder to his men and then back to the Sith. The way he'd referred to Padmè by her first name had his suspicions raised, but he had no time to think on it further. He was out of options and now his men would perish if he didn't give the Dark Lord at least something. An exhausted sigh escaped him. "She wasn't here long. She asked to borrow a ship and I agreed," he mumbled trying to sit up.

Vader stepped back and gestured for the troopers to stand down. Their armour rattled and blasters lowered. "Where was she going?" he asked, his voice notably calmer.

"I – I am not sure. She said something about needing to find someone. She never said where." He sat up, rubbing his jaw, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

A rumbling growl cut the air. Holstering his saber, the Dark Lord folded his arms and regarded the Viceroy, trying to ascertain the truthfulness of his words. Unable to decide he grunted. "Mind yourself, Viceroy. Consider this my one and only warning. I will be watching you closely from now on. One wrong move and I will destroy you."

"Understood Lord Vader."

"Good." He spun in place and motioned for his troops to fall in behind, storming from the hall. They marched from the palace and boarded the shuttle, leaving for the Exactor.

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER ALDERAAN_

Vader charged into his quarters and slammed the blast door in frustration. He paced back and forth trying to decide on his next move. Padmè had taken a ship and left on her own. He was back to square one, with no hint as to where to look next.

Sitting down in his newly outfitted hyperbaric chamber, he signalled the bridge.

" _Yes My Lord_ ," the Captain acknowledged.

"Take the fleet out of orbit and deploy the Vipers, then head for the Outer-rim."

" _The Outer-rim Sir?"_

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. "Do I need to repeat myself, Captain?"

" _No My Lord, s-sorry My Lord."_

Vader deactivated the transceiver and slumped back in his seat. He had at least six hours of hyperspace travel to kill before they reached the Outer-rim. Closing the hexagonal walls, he activated the arm to retrieve his helmet, listening to the sudden rush of oxygen pressurizing around him. All he could do now was think. Where would she go? He knew she was looking for their children but how would he find her? No answers came to mind – other than Naboo. But she wouldn't have gone there, they already knew Luke and Leia weren't on her home world. Plus he would've sensed their presence in the force.

Head gear removed, he sat and stared at his Sith gold eyes burning in his reflection. His skin was getting paler by the week, now resembling some sort of anaemic radiation victim and the deep purpling shadows beneath his eyes did nothing to help. Is this what she saw every time she looked at him?

Clenching his fists upon the command console, he snarled in disgust and squeezed his eyes shut tight. In his Angel's absence the flickering candle inside grew ever dimmer, slowly suffocating in his misery. With each passing day, the Jedi she fought so hard to bring back, shrivelled and retreated making way for the dark side to flourish and take hold.

Part of him cheered for the revelation, thankful for his resilience. But hidden in the shadows, slinking back into the depths of his inner sanctum ...

Anakin Skywalker – former Jedi Knight – cried.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Thank you all for your reviews/follows/favourites, I am so glad you are enjoying it. I hope this chapter does not disappoint.

MTFBWY


	31. Chapter 28: Nuntius

**Chapter 28: Nuntius**

Tatoo I and II burned bright this afternoon, bathing the arid landscape in their scorching rays. He was beginning to understand why Anakin had hated this dreadful planet so much. What really was there to like about it? Endless piles of sun-bleached sand, natives that insisted on trying to kill everyone, giant space slugs that ruled through fear and oppression and _heat_ ... the horrible, inescapable, throat parching, energy sapping heat.

So uncivilized.

Closing the door to his hovel, Obi-wan groaned and shuffled inside, tugging his robe off and hanging it at the entrance. Sand fell from the dusty fibres and cascaded to the floor. He really disliked this place. He wouldn't go so far as to say that he hated it, because ... well ... he _was_ a Jedi, and to hate was not the Jedi way. At least that's what he told himself – over and over and over again.

He sauntered to the kitchenette. A nice, soothing herbal tea always improved his mood and helped him think. And he had so very much to think about. After three solid hours of meditation, he still felt just as unsettled as he did prior. Padmè had hit a nerve during her scathing attack, effectively tearing him apart with her every word.

He had tried to reach out to Anakin ... _hadn't_ he?

Pouring in the boiling water, he watched the plumes of steam swirl above the cup. He picked it up, absentmindedly stirring the spoon and moved to sit down on the chair.

So very much to think about.

'Help me save him' she'd said, 'help me bring him back'. But there was no coming back, was there? Not from what he'd done. Sure, if there was even the slightest chance that Anakin would somehow miraculously repent his actions and ask forgiveness, he would take it. Of course he would. He was his brother, he _loved_ him.

But that wasn't enough was it? His love? It never was nor ever would be. He sighed, slumping back. If only ...

A warm salty tear slipped down his cheek. He didn't brush it away, instead allowing it to fall. So many times he'd over-analysed the events leading up to his turn. But the same answer always repeated itself – he had failed him. He had failed the _chosen_ _one_. He sipped at his tea, leaning back and closing his eyes, savouring the sweet taste. The deafening silence of his hovel surrounded him, reminding him of his isolation. Even though he should never have permitted those words to leave his mouth, deep down he meant every one of them – he still missed him. Obi-wan sighed.

A loud beeping shattered the silence, pulling him from his thoughts. Reaching into his belt, he pulled out the comm-unit. He recognized Senator Organa's signal immediately. "Kenobi here."

The Alderaanian's face appeared, but he didn't look himself. Bruised and battered, sporting a freshly minted black eye, the Viceroy stunted in a breath before speaking.

" _Master Kenobi, is everything well there?"_

That was an odd question, he raised his brow. "Better here than there, it would appear. What happened?"

" _Suffice it to say that Darth Vader paid me a v_ isit _this evening._ "

Not good. Obi-wan put his cup down. "Oh. I take it, he did that to your face."

" _Yes, he wasn't particularly conversational._ "

"No I don't imagine he would've been," he muttered casting his eyes to the ground. Even as a Jedi, Anakin had always preferred the 'hit first, ask questions later' approach to interrogation. A preference he apparently carried with him into Sith-hood.

" _He's looking for her Obi-wan._ "

Of course he is. Force help the poor beings of the galaxy who get in his way. His gaze returned to the beaten-up Senator. "What did you tell him?"

" _Nothing useful. I said she borrowed a ship and left. I didn't mention Tatooine."_

A sigh of relief escaped him. Not that he had ever doubted the Senator's resilience, but Anakin's brutish methods had always been remarkably effective. "I'm sorry Bail. It's my fault, I should never have allowed you to get involved," he said, dragging his hand roughly through his hair.

The Alderaanian's bruised face tightened. " _Nonsense, my old friend. I brought this upon myself when I chose to liberate her from Coruscant. It isn't your fault. You had nothing to do with it."_

Obi-wan shook his head. But it _was_ his fault. All of this was. And eventually he would have to try and fix it to whatever end necessary. "It's kind of you to say such things Senator, but I'm afraid it is _all_ my fault."

The transmission went silent, the Jedi's heartfelt admission hanging heavily in the air between them.

" _He's not just anyone, is he Obi-wan? There's more to this story isn't there?"_

Perhaps it was time to tell him. Better he know the truth now so at least he could prepare himself for future attacks. He stared into the trusting brown eyes of the Senator and took a deep breath. "No, you're right Bail. He isn't _just anyone ..."_

• • •

Every planet in the Outer-rim was fast becoming alive with Imperial Clone Troopers thanks to Vader's orders. Moffs of all sectors had been given the last recorded holo-images of Padmè Amidala, Obi-wan Kenobi, Ferus Olin and Caleb Dume with strict instructions to apprehend upon sight. Hundreds of Viper probe droids littered the galaxy, scanning and searching for the four persons of interest.

Star Destroyers blockaded all major hyper-routes in and throughout the galactic Outer-rim, aggressively intercepting any ship trying to gain passage. Perched on the Hydian Way, just on the outskirts of Christophsis, the Exactor and her three accompanying cruisers were currently in hot pursuit.

Two squadrons of TIE-fighters darted left and right, red lasers blazing, chasing down a light freighter intent on evading them. The small vessel had inadvertently stumbled upon the blockade and was attempting to flee. It barrelled past the hull and shot across the viewport, dodging heavy fire coming in from every angle. Reaching the back of the Exactor, three more of the gargantuan arrowhead ISDs blocked its path. It veered left, narrowly missing one of the fighters and nosedived, desperately trying to shake off the attack. But the TIE's were too swift, swooping in on the offensive and corralling them back toward the Exactor's awaiting tractor beam.

Vader watched the spectacle from the viewport, in two-minds as to whether to jump into his Interceptor and join the chase. He paced back and forth, hands tightly clasped at his back, his signature respirator ominously hissing in and out. Every ship that ignored their hail was now under scrutiny. No one was spared. After a week of hunting, he wasn't prepared to take any more chances.

The freighter hurtled across the viewport again flanked by his fighters and he whirled on his heel, charging for the bridge. "Captain?" he snarled, thundering across the catwalk.

The commanding officer quickly glanced toward him, nervously wiping the sweat from his face. "Readying the tractor beam Lord Vader. Any moment now," his shaky voice replied.

Alarms blared, signalling final target lock.

"Locked on and engaged, Sir," a Lieutenant called out.

"Bring them in Lieutenant," the Captain ordered, turning back to watch the nav-display.

The officer saluted. "Activating tractor beam."

"Prepare the boarding party," Vader said, striding for the main corridor and leaving the bridge.

Klaxons wailed in warning, their screeching sirens blasting the hangar. Commander Appo led his troops across the deck, hurrying toward the docking freighter and surrounding it. Vader and two Officers stormed through the blast door as the deflector shield sealed shut, trapping the intercepted ship inside.

"Commander, search the ship and bring the passengers to me. I want them _alive,_ " the Dark Lord ordered, folding his arms and listening to the force.

"Yes My Lord," Appo acknowledged, signalling his men to follow.

The boarding ramp dropped open and the troopers rushed in, setting their blasters for stun mode. A commotion sounded from inside, angry shouts and insults hurled in the air, followed by a series of rapid blaster fire. Moments later the Commander returned, escorting three middle-aged men in marauder outfits down the ramp. He shoved them forward with the butt of his rifle, ushering them toward the awaiting Sith.

"These three were the only lifeforms on board Lord Vader. Scanning crew are now inspecting the ship," Appo declared.

Vader stepped forward, propping his fists on his hips. "Good work, Commander." He managed to disguise his bitter disappointment, confronted with yet another dead end. Still, at the very least they would provide some much needed release and possibly even a little _light entertainment._ Eyeing them over, he let the rasp of his breathing set the mood. "You three gave us quite the run-around," he said, toying with his glove. "Why the hurry gentlemen?"

"We needed to get home, our dinner was getting cold," the taller man huffed, staring up at him in defiance. His two companions gave a smug smirk, stifling their amusement.

"Is that so?" he replied, playing along. "Perhaps if you had bothered to respond to our hails, you would now be enjoying it."

"Yeah well, you see, I was already on a call to my wife. Sorry 'bout that, she can be a real ball-breaker. You know how women are..."

The man to his right chuckled, lifting his hand to cover his mouth. "He probably doesn't Cap'n. But who knows, maybe the armour's a turn on for some broads."

"Dunno 'bout the armour," the one on the left joked, "but that helmet sure does it for me. Tell me, does it come in blue?"

Vader ground his teeth. Up until this point he had considered letting them go, deciding to simply toy with their emotions for an hour or so first. Ignorant fools. Their disrespecting tongues had just sealed their fate. He growled, rapidly losing patience. If they weren't careful he would end their pathetic little lives right here in the hangar.

"My Lord, scanning crew discovered several Imperial crates concealed within the main cabin," Appo said, darting out of the freighter.

The Dark Lord tilted his mask to look passed the three prisoners. "What have they found?"

"Kyber crystals Sir. The hold is full of them. Looks to be the stolen shipment reported two days ago."

Perfect. A welcome distraction. Now he could really have fun with them. He smiled, baring his teeth. "Thank you Commander. Have the crates transferred to the cargo hold and impound the ship."

"Right away Sir."

Turning his attention back to the three pirates, he flexed his fingers. "As for you three _comedians_ ... it would seem that your dinner plans have just been cancelled. Let's see how much you laugh chained up in the brig."

• • •

The containment cells were cold and sterile. Tugging on his cuffs, the shortest of the three pirates groaned. "I think we upset him," he muttered.

"Don't be ridiculous, droids don't have feelings Grif," the taller man remarked over the clank of his ankle restraints. He stared at the grey walls, deep in thought.

"I almost lost it when you said your _wife_ was a ball-breaker Deaks," the older of the three chortled, stroking his wiry beard on the bench. "Everyone at base knows you're a virgin, and now you're gonna die one."

"You're not still sulking after I knocked you back, are you Haynes?" Deaks retorted, looking back over his shoulder to the bearded pirate. "Like I said, it's nothing personal. You're just not my type."

"Will you two morons just shut up, someone's coming!" Grif grunted, jumping to his feet.

The durasteel blast door to the cell whooshed open, revealing the black armoured Sith. Ducking his head, he thudded forward and folded his arms, sweeping his masked face across the three prisoners. "Not laughing so hard now, are we gentlemen?" the Dark Lord hissed.

Deaks scowled, dropping his brows deep. "A joke's not a joke without an audience," he said, standing tall.

"Indeed," Vader growled. "Well, let's see if you find this amusing." Before the man could utter a response, he grabbed him by the neck and hoisted him off the floor. The man kicked and struggled, the chains clattering from the movement. Staring into his bulging blue eyes, he gritted his teeth. "Not so funny now, am I?"

The man gurgled and squirmed, slowly losing consciousness. Vader sidestepped and launched his body across the cell, smashing him into the door security panel and knocking him out cold. He watched the man's blood gradually seep out onto the steel floor, pooling by the curve of his cheek. Whirling to face the other two prisoners, he adjusted his glove and moved closer. "Now, who wants to go next?"

* * *

TATOOINE: MOS ESPA

"Is that everything?" Obi-wan asked, shifting the hessian-weave bags in his hands.

Sabè consulted the shopping list for the third time. "I believe so. But, there's bound to be something she's forgotten. Padmè's not been herself lately."

He shook his head. "No she most certainly hasn't." They trudged on through the bustling market, dodging peddlers and avoiding gruff locals. One standard week since Bail had dropped her off at the Lars's homestead and her mood had only marginally improved. He'd hoped by now she would've settled in and adjusted to the way things were. Apparently that was too much to hope for.

Beads of sweat dotted his face, gradually making their way down into his beard. He wiped them away with the sleeve of his free hand.

"Hey you, stop right there!"

Every hair on his body immediately pricked to attention, his boots grinding to a halt in the uneven sand. He grabbed hold of Sabè, grey eyes fixed on the squad of clone troopers that had suddenly appeared at the end of the road. They roughly tugged at a young woman carrying a basket and pulled her to a stop.

"Let's see some identification," the lead trooper announced.

Obi-wan turned to Sabè, his usually tanned face now considerably paler. "How about some lunch? It's getting a little _crowded_ out here," he suggested, gently pulling her toward an open cantina.

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, following him from the road and ducking into the synstone establishment.

They quickly moved through the tough crowd, searching out a secluded booth next to a window. The place was teaming with beings from every corner of the galaxy and the wretched smell reminded him of the rank lower levels of underground Coruscant. Spoiled liquor, over-active scent glands and the pleasant aroma of long dried Bantha excrement filled the stale air.

He was on high alert, reaching out with the force to sense for incoming danger. Picking up the menus, they both sank deeper into the seats trying to avoid detection.

"It's getting harder to avoid them. Soon we won't even be able to leave the farm," Sabè whispered, glancing up over the menu.

"There's no need to worry yet Sabè. There are ways of dealing with them without attracting attention. We just need to be patient."

She watched the troopers march through the marketplace, seeming to stop patrons at random and demanding their chips. "You don't think this is all because of Padmè do you?" she said, keeping her voice low.

"No, I don't. As I said before, this is the very last place in the entire galaxy he would come looking for her." He lowered the menu, pointing at one of the options. "What do you think of the house special?"

She cocked her brow and inspected the write up. "Seared Bantha in special sauce, with Cook's signature root mash. Sounds just as shonky as this cantina." Her accusing stare met his briefly and she huffed, slumping back in her seat. "You aren't seriously thinking of eating here are you? This place is crawling with filth." Wiping her finger across the table, she held it in the air between them, her lips curled in disgust. "And I'm not just referring to the customers, there's more dirt on this table than there is outside."

He unceremoniously dropped the menu down onto the _dirt_ - _covered_ table and clasped his hands together. "I _was_ thinking about it until you pointed that out." Glancing through the window, he sighed and placed both palms down, pushing himself up. "Well, we may as well leave if we aren't going to be eating, it looks like they've moved on anyway."

"Good, I wasn't really looking forward to hiding out in here for too long," she grumbled, moving to follow. "This place gives me the creeps."

Obi-wan rolled his eyes. "Yes, you made that abundantly clear."

They headed back out onto the road and made their way toward the awaiting land-speeder. It was parked in a dark lane way, hidden from sight. Lowering the bags into the trunk, Obi-wan pulled it closed and climbed into the driver's seat. Sabè sat down beside him and secured the hood of her cloak down over her forehead. The engines whirred into life.

Slowly guiding the small craft out of the lane way, Obi-wan breathed a sigh of relief, thankful to be finally heading back to the homestead. "Hopefully that's the last shopping trip for a while. I'm getting too old for all of this," he groaned.

"Don't be so dramatic Obi-wan. It could be worse," Sabè said, holding onto her cloak.

As they neared the city outskirts, another squad of clone troopers crossed the main road, blocking their path. This time there were two Dewbacks complimenting the four on foot. The four-legged reptilian beasts grunted and hissed as their riders pulled them to a stop. Obi-wan slowed the land-speeder and shot a condescending glance to Sabè, who proceeded to slink down further into her seat.

"What were you saying about things being worse?" he remarked, stopping the speeder.

The trooper commander aimed his blaster and marched forward. "Let's see some identification. Both of you," he demanded. The other three on foot moved in and surrounded them.

Obi-wan stared up at the Commander. He couldn't believe his eyes. Of all of the Troopers, on all of the planets, in all of the galaxy, of course it would be Cody that stopped him. The orange markings on his armour and the bulky shoulder plate were a dead giveaway.

This day just keeps getting better.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Cody asked, cocking his blaster. "Your identification chips, now, or you're both under arrest."

Blast it. He drew on the force and smiled sadly up at his old Commander, waving his hand across his helmet. "You don't need to see our identification. We're not the people you're looking for," he purred in a smooth, peaceful tone.

Cody straightened up and lowered his weapon. "We don't need to see their identification. They're not the people we're looking for," he drolly repeated.

Obi-wan continued, waving his hand once again. "We may go about our business. Move along."

Taking a large step back, Cody repositioned himself away from the side of the speeder. "They may go about their business," he repeated, then waved his white armoured hand dismissively. "Move along. Move along."

Not wasting any time, Obi-wan shifted the speeder back into gear and got going. He sat silently, trying not to dwell too much on the past, chanting his old master's words in his head. " _You're focusing on the past Obi-wan. Keep your mind in the here-and-now."_

"I thought we were gone for sure," Sabè said, looking to the Jedi seated beside her. "Can you do that to all of us?"

Obi-wan pursed his lips. He guided the speeder along the dusty sand-dunes marking the end of Mos Espa and took them out onto the flats, heading for Anchorhead. "Can I do what, to _who_?" he asked distantly.

"That Jedi mind control thing you just did," Sabè said, folding her arms. "Could you do it to me?"

"Some days ... I _wish_ it would work on you," he muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the horizon. A soft chuckle escaped him. "Don't you worry Sabè, it only works on the _weak-minded,_ and you my lady are anything _but_ that _._ "

• • •

Jaina and Beru rushed out from the kitchen when they heard Sabè and Obi-wan return to the sitting room. The weary Jedi placed the bags down onto the table, then hung his robe over one of the chairs.

"Oh good, you're back," Beru greeted, pulling one of the shopping bags toward her. "Did you manage to get everything on the list?"

"I think so," Sabè replied, pulling out the groceries and starting to unpack.

"If we missed anything it will have to wait until tomorrow. I'm not going back today," Obi-wan groaned heading into the kitchen with some of the vegetables.

Jaina looked to the handmaiden across the table and frowned. "What's up with him?"

"He's been grumpy ever since we left the cantina. I think he's hungry," Sabè dismissed grabbing the items that Padmè had requested. "I didn't want to eat in the muck infested establishment he took me to."

Beru chuckled, and started for the kitchen. "Jedi or not, he's still just a man. They get irritable when they're hungry. I'll fix him something to eat, that ought to lighten his mood."

"It better," Sabè quipped, "or I'm going to take him straight back to Mos Espa and hand him over to the garrison myself."

"The garrison?" Jaina asked. "The Empire is here? On Tatooine?"

The handmaiden covered her face in disbelief. "The Empire is _everywhere_ Jaina. Now, have you seen Padmè? I have the things that she asked for."

"She'll be out shortly. She was just putting the twins down for their nap."

Obi-wan trudged back to the table with his tea and sandwich and sat down to eat. Padawan and handmaiden both stared at him silently for a moment before resuming their conversation.

"Master, Sabè said there were troopers stationed at Mos Espa now. Is that true?" Jaina asked, dropping into the chair beside him.

He looked up at the young blonde, still chewing his mouthful. Why did she have to insist on calling him _master_? He wasn't her master, he didn't want to be _anyone's_ master, ever again. He wasn't fit for the role nor the responsibility. Swallowing, he took a sip from his tea then leant back in the chair and sighed. "Yes Jaina, it's true. Not that it matters, we are safe from them here."

"But what if they find us?" she cried, a hint of panic colouring her voice. "We're wanted fugitives! Not to mention Padmè and the twins."

"I can handle a few clone troopers. I've worked with them long enough to know what they're capable of." He picked up his sandwich and huffed loudly. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to finish eating."

Sitting on the stairs and hiding behind the doorway, Padmè listened in on their conversation. _There are troopers in Mos Espa?_ She glanced back to R2 heading up the steps toward her. Rising to her feet, she brushed off her tunic and smiled, moving to go join the others.

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: HYDIAN WAY BLOCKADE_

The blast door to the containment cell whooshed open and Vader stepped out, stopping to tug his cape back into position. He glanced back at the three bodies on the floor then gestured to the two troopers standing guard. "Get in there and clean that mess up."

"Right away sir." They ran into the cell as he stormed down the corridor, only to re-emerge moments later, dragging two of the three shattered corpses off in the opposite direction.

Officers ducked behind doors and fled around corners ahead of the angered Sith. No-one dared get in his way when he was like this. The flickering strip lights recessed into the overhead panels and the thundering stomp of his stride, gave them all enough warning to make themselves scarce.

Barging into his quarters, Vader removed his left glove and hurled it across the room. Nothing was helping anymore and he was slowly starting to lose his patience. He paced back and forth, his boots pounding the solid durasteel plating. "Where _are_ you?" he yelled, attempting to vent out some of his frustration. Clenching his fists, he thumped into his hyperbaric chamber and switched on the command console, deciding to try and contact her again.

The transmitter flashed, dialling in the frequency.

The connection failed.

Still nothing.

He let out a pained scream and slammed his hand down against the controls. The vocoder in his mask crackled in protest. He was beginning to get desperate. It'd been just over a week since Padmè had left him, which meant she could now be anywhere in the galaxy. With no clues, no signs and every plausible lead coming up empty, he was losing hope of finding her any time in the near future.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," he muttered to himself, hitting the switch to close the chamber walls. The retractor arm lowered, removing his head gear when the air finally pressurized. Closing his eyes, he dropped both hands to rest upon his knees and gave himself to the force.

If he couldn't locate her, then perhaps he could at least track down Kenobi.

* * *

 _TATOOINE: LARS HOMESTEAD_

The twins suns had retreated below the horizon and now in their place, three glowing white moons stood guard, dutifully watching over the undulating terrain of Anchorhead. Small clouds of sand sprayed against the synstone dome, crashing over the surface like water onto rocks.

Buried beneath the sand, nestled in their cots, the Lars's and their quarry of house guests peacefully slumbered. Obi-wan tossed and turned on the sofa, Jaina and Sabè shared one of the nearby guest quarters and Luke and Leia gently snored in their cot, their tiny arms wrapped tight around each other.

Only one was awake, shuffling about the workshop under flickering lamp light, nervously preparing for her journey.

"Oooh – Oooooh," Artoo whistled, ejecting a small disk out of his socket.

"Quiet Artoo," Padmè whispered, grabbing the data disk and shoving it into her robe pocket. "I know you don't like it, but I have to do this."

"Roooi – roooi," he complained, rocking side to side and flashing his lights in protest.

"Don't worry, I'll be back before dawn." Drawing the hood up over her head, she affectionately rubbed his alloy dome then silently tiptoed out the door.

• • •

Padmè pulled the land-speeder to a stop beside one of the dome-shaped buildings and sat nervously behind the steering wheel. She hadn't thought her plan out very well and now her nerves were starting to kick in. Pulling her hood down, she tried to get her bearings. In the distance she could hear the familiar rattle of trooper armour shuffling about, but she couldn't see them.

She climbed out and dropped to the floor, pulling the black velvet cloak in tight. Patting her leg down, she unhooked the blaster she'd found in the workshop and held it to her waist. Taking several deep breaths to gather her nerves, she headed into the main street, keeping to the shadows.

She stopped at one of the buildings and peered through a small window. It was a local watering hole of some sort filled with all sorts of rag-tag ruffians and low-lives. But in the corner, slumped over on a stool by the bar, was a familiar sight. She smiled and made for the entrance.

Nobody paid her any attention as she moved between them, being careful not to disturb the patrons from their drinking. She reached her intended target and sat down on the stool beside him, leaning forward onto the bench top. His blue wings laid limp as he roughly scratched at his chin and took a swig from his tanker.

"Aaah," he groaned, dropping his head down and almost crushing his elephantine nose.

She tapped him on the arm.

Lifting his head, he stared at her with his beady little eyes. "What do you want?" he grunted in huttese. "Whatever it is, I don't have it."

"I'm looking for someone to deliver a package," she replied in the same tongue.

"Go look some place else." He went to turn away and she grabbed hold of his wing, gripping it tight.

"I'll make it worth your while _Watto_."

His beady yellow eyes suddenly went wide. He stiffened before her, his face twisting into a deep scowl. "Who are you? Have we met before?" he hissed.

Digging into her robe, she scooped out a large sum of money and dumped it onto the bench. "Does that answer your question?"

Watto's eyes frantically darted across every corner of the bar while his claws dragged the coins to his chest. He grunted and groaned, hastily tallying up their value.

"Listen, I don't have much time. Is that enough or not?" she snapped, grabbing his arm and squeezing it.

"Fine, I _might_ know of someone," he hissed, yanking his arm away. "What's the package and who's it gotta get to?"

• • •

Hiding within the shadows, Padmè watched the shady Rodian cross the street and approach three troopers. "You better be right about him Watto, or there'll be hell to pay," she whispered to the Toydarian flapping beside her.

"He does what I tell him," he grunted back, slowly slinking further into the shadows behind her. "You didn't answer my question."

She briefly glanced back. "No? What question was that?"

"Who _are_ you?"

Turning her eyes back to the exchange, she huffed and leant on the wall. "You remember the Jedi that used to be your slave years ago?"

"Little Ani," he said almost wistfully. "Yes, could fix anything that boy."

The clone troopers snatched the package from Wald and immediately went on the offensive. Shoving the Rodian to the side, they spread out, sweeping their blaster torch lights across every wall and lane-way.

"Time to go!" she said, suddenly turning in place and pushing her way past him. She stopped between the two neighbouring buildings and looked back. "As for your question ..." she called out to him from the shadows. "I'm his wife."

Not waiting for his reply, she quickly ducked around the next corner and disappeared into the night.

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: HYDIAN WAY BLOCKADE_

BEEP, BEEP.

BEEP, BEEP.

Vader's burning gold eyes flew open and glared at the command console flashing in his chamber. He'd almost reached Kenobi. Just as he felt the force shifting and pulling their minds closer, the beeping sounded, ripping him from his trance. Slamming his fist onto the controls he activated the transmitter. "What now?"

" _My Lord, Commander Cody of the 212_ _th_ _has just made contact. He wishes to speak with you Sir."_

He clenched his fists. "I am a little _busy_ at the moment."

" _Yes, I did tell them that you were currently preoccupied, but I'm afraid he's insisting. Says it's quite urgent. He will only speak to you My Lord."_

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth. "This had better be important Captain. Put him through."

Vader lowered the retractor arm, replacing his helmet and mask so he could initiate the visualizer. Back within his prison, he flicked the controls and waited for the signals to connect.

The Trooper Commander's image buzzed onto the holo-screen. " _Sorry for disturbing you Lord Vader,"_ he started, holding his helmeted head high. " _But you will want to hear this."_

"What seems to be the problem Commander?" he growled, tugging his glove back on and stretching his flesh fingers.

" _A package was delivered to one of our squad leaders this evening."_

"And?"

" _And the messenger informed them that it was meant for you and you alone."_

He straightened up in his seat and leant forward. "What kind of package?" he growled.

" _A data-disk. It's an older sort though, not like the ones we use. We tried to access the files, but they seem to be encrypted. The messenger said that only you would be able to decipher them. Something about some secret code or something."_

A data-disk? Encrypted files? Cody's assessment of his level of interest was perfectly accurate. The Commander suddenly had his undivided attention. "Transmit the files to my co-ordinates at once."

" _Right away Sir. Transferring now."_

His command console lit up, displaying the downloading transmission and he impatiently rapped his gloved fingers while he waited. "Where are you and your men stationed Commander?" he asked, tilting his head to look back up at the screen.

" _In the Arkanis Sector Lord Vader. The Mos Espa outpost, Tatooine."_

His respirator faltered. His heart skipped a beat.

 _Tatooine._

 _Why there?_

 _Anywhere but there._

A rumbling growl shook from the very depths of his battle-scarred chest. The command console flashed blindingly beneath his tightly clenched fists.

He numbly glanced down.

The files were downloaded.

"Is there anything _else,_ Commander?" he hissed.

" _No My Lord."_

"Good. Keep this conversation to yourself. I will be in touch."

"Yes Lord Vader. Cody out."

The screen went black. He stared silently at the downloaded file, trying to remain calm. After several cycles of his respirator, he activated the data deciphering software and waited.

The file wouldn't open and none of his codes were working. Rising from his seat, he left the hyperbaric chamber and started to pace. Only he could open it. Meaning that only _he_ possessed the codes needed to decipher it. But what code was it? All of the ones currently in circulation had been designed by the Imperial Security Bureau, except for his and his Master's. But _he_ wouldn't do something like this. If his master wanted to reach him, he knew how.

No this was from someone else. But who? And more importantly, _why?_

He paced back and forth, shaking his head deep in thought. He thought back to every time he could ever remember needing to use data-encryptions. There were the one's he and Obi-wan had used during the clone wars. Special Op's codes limited to only the ARC troopers and the 501st.

And then there was the code that he made. Designed specifically by him. Hidden inside the memory banks of his once beloved Astromech, Artoo.

Racing back to his seat, he inputted the security codes into the decryption program and initiated the decoder.

 _ **Decryption in progress...**_

 _ **10% complete...**_

 _ **21% complete...**_

 _ **60% complete...**_

 _ **85% complete...**_

 _ **100% complete.**_

 _ **File successfully unlocked.**_

He quickly activated the recording and waited for the playback. Static covered the screen in stark white snow, hissing in waves across the black background.

A familiar image finally materialized.

A lump suddenly rose in his throat. Behind the mask, warm tears started to swell around the corners of his eyes. They overflowed, cascading down his scarred cheeks like a trickling waterfall.

Playing on the screen, as if torn straight from the darkest crevice of his heart and thrust into his face, was the dream-like recording of their wedding day.

Crystal blue eyes blinked rapidly behind the crimson lenses, trying in vain to sweep away the interfering moisture. He couldn't breathe, stunned by the harsh reality of his troubled past.

When the playback stopped, he sat silently for almost ten minutes, staring at the blank screen in a daze. His Angel. His beautiful Angel. After all these years he still couldn't believe that she'd married him. That she had been willing to forego the normalcies of a usual marriage, in exchange for one of secrecy and seclusion. Knowing full well that they could never have, what _everyone_ else had.

Reality suddenly hit him like a battering ram to the chest. In a full panic, he turned on his communicator and signalled the bridge.

" _Lord Vader. Your orders Sir?"_ the Captain asked.

"Captain, contact the fleet and inform them to set the course for Tatooine."

" _At once My Lord."_

"Good. I will be at the bridge momentarily."

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Welcome back Selenese I am so glad to hear that you are still reading. But saddened to learn of your health worries, I hope you feel better soon.

Sfloresf and RyuuShadow, thank you so much for your constant support and reviews. I am truly blessed to have readers such as yourselves.

This chapter is a bit too choppy for my liking but, I think it got there in the end. Sometimes you just have to say oh well and move on.

I hope you all enjoy it.

As always, MTFBWY.


	32. Chapter 29: Proelium Fratrum

**Chapter 29: Proelium Fratrum**

 **\- Part 1 -**

TATOOINE: LARS HOMESTEAD

Padmè tiptoed past the dining table, keeping her eyes glued to the still sleeping Jedi on the sofa. It'd taken several hours to get back to the homestead and she had so much to do. There was no way of knowing how long it would be before Anakin arrived, or if he even got her message in the first place. All she could do was get ready and wait. She went to make for the doorway when Obi-wan stirred, throwing his arm up over his face.

"No ... it can't be," he moaned, his facial expression twisting in pain. He rolled over, yanking at the blanket. "No."

His agonizing grunts suddenly gave her pause, rooted to the space between the stairs and sofa. She hadn't noticed his nightmares before. She hadn't even realized that he suffered from them. But she did recognize the sight of a grown man trapped in the throes of one. _That,_ she was all too familiar with.

Butterflies danced in her stomach. If he woke up now and saw her standing there, it could ruin everything. He would no doubt want an explanation. An explanation she just couldn't seem to come up with in her current excitable state. She held her breath, hoping it would pass, consequently allowing her to slip by unnoticed. The noises stopped and he settled back down, sinking his head further into the pillow.

She tried for the twins' room again, taking a deep breath and edging closer to the doorway.

"Anakin," he whispered.

She froze, nervously glancing back over her shoulder. Could he sense something? Did the force work that way, even in sleep? No. She was being silly, there was no way for him to know, was there? How could he? He'd been fast asleep when she'd left, just like he was now. Steadying herself, she stared silently, listening to the sudden shift in his breathing. If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn he was crying from the subtle whimpers and stunted gasps he was making.

"I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry," he mumbled, bringing his knees up into the foetal position.

An aching stab erupted in her chest. With everything that had happened, she'd never really stopped to consider how he might have been feeling. She was a little preoccupied with finding her children, as any mother who'd had their babies taken away would have been. But now, actually thinking about it, the whole situation must have been understandably traumatic for him. He and Anakin had been so close for so long, forging a bond so intimate, that it completely eclipsed the one she had with him, in ways that she never fully understood. On the outside Obi-wan had always seemed aloof, like most of the Jedi, never allowing his emotions to surface. But he couldn't hide from them in his sleep. No-one could. Not even him.

Doubt started to raise its ugly head, causing her to suddenly question her actions. What was going to happen when the two of them finally came face to face with each other? How badly would it end up?

Would she lose one of them? Would they fight each other to the bitter end?

In truth, she couldn't stomach the thought of seeing them hurt each other any more, regardless of how angry she felt. Obi-wan was still a close friend and everything he'd done had only been out of good intentions.

Wiping a tear from her cheek, she held on to the doorframe and waited for him to stop. _Oh, Obi-wan. I'm so sorry. I never thought on how this affected you._

 _What have I done?_

* * *

ARKANIS SECTOR: TATOO SYSTEM

Hyperspace. The Exactor and her three sister Star Destroyers made short work of the distance between Christophsis and Tatooine, blasting through the galaxy in their malevolent grace. Steady ribbons of blue and white light enshrouded the viewport, glinting off the glossy midnight armour of the anxious Dark Lord.

He paced left and right. Then right and left. Hands locked firmly at his back and his black cloak floating in his wake. His brooding patrol so repetitive it almost wore a trench in the floor. His exhilaration at possibly discovering Padmè's location was fast overshadowed by his crippling fear of their destination. The mere mention of the infernal planet's name had sent his mind into chaos. So much so, he'd actually gone and reactivated the auto-medicator unit in his suit to start re-administering the serum injections again, in a bid to try and reign in his emotions. The first shot was like his master had blasted him with a dose of force lightning, setting off a series of mini explosions that lit his nerves on fire.

They worked for the most part, helping him to slip back into the comforting embrace of the force. But the memories didn't completely disappear. Even standing at the viewport, watching the hypnotic streams of light hurtle past the ship, he could still see the haunting images of his mother dying in his arms. The pain filled howls of the sand people ringing in his ears. The steady snap-hiss and hum of his lightsaber as he callously mowed them down one-by-one.

"Preparing to drop out of lightspeed Lord Vader," the Captain announced from the helm. "ETA to Tatooine, ten minutes."

The Captain's words fell on deaf ears as Vader continued to pace.

He'd vowed to never return to this wretched planet, and yet destiny seemed determined to intervene. He already knew where to go the moment they hit the atmosphere, but he wasn't remotely looking forward to it. At least he could visit his mother's grave, not that she'd be proud of who he'd become. A vice gripped his chest, stealing his breath. Something akin to guilt or shame washed over him, an emotion he'd been experiencing more and more frequently since he'd been reunited with Padmè.

What would she have said to him if she were in fact still alive? Seeing, knowing and hearing of the atrocities he had committed in the name of the Empire. Disappointment? Disgust? Both fit the supposed description, yet neither one powerful enough to describe her hypothetical reaction.

The question brought forth another, more damning revelation. Would he still be who he is now, if she hadn't died in his arms that night?

"My Lord?"

He stopped mid-step and spun around. "What is it Captain?"

The Officer's face went pale, his meek expression a mix of both fear and bewilderment. He cleared his throat and stood tall. "We are preparing to drop out of lightspeed Sir. ETA to Tatooine five minutes."

Vader spun back to face the viewport. "Very well Captain. Alert Commander Appo. Have him and his men meet me in the hangar."

"Right away Sir."

He stared back at the lights. The moment of truth was rapidly approaching, and soon he would come face to face with his traumatic past. Any minute now the ribbons would disperse and transform into stars.

As if obeying his unspoken command, the ship shuddered and broke from lightspeed, thumping into the star speckled vacuum of the Tatoo system.

His respirator skipped.

There it was.

The spherical dust ball of a planet he once called home, growing in the viewport window right before his masked eyes. Its orange-red aura glowing against the blackness of space like a haunting blood moon.

The rumble of the other three Star Destroyers exiting hyperspace rattled the bridge. The alloy walls and floor shook, along with the crew. His emotional reaction must've been more noticeable than he first realized, with every officer on deck now stunned into silence. Unclenching his hands, he pivoted on his heel and headed for the bridge aft door. "Captain, ready the shuttles."

* * *

ARKANIS SECTOR: TATOOINE: MOS ESPA OUTPOST

"Cody?" a trooper of the 212th called, rushing out into the crisp night air to join his Commander.

The lead trooper turned to face the officer.

"We have just received word from the Exactor Sir. Lord Vader and the boys in blue are currently en-route."

Cody turned and gestured his white armoured hand toward the flashing lights in the sky. "Yes, I believe that is them."

Shuttle after shuttle descended to the sand. Nine of them in total, grouped together before the primitive outpost with their tripodal wing-foils folded and pointing up to the atmosphere. Vader and Commander Appo were the first to exit, quickly followed by the 501st squad leaders, one from each ship. Grouping behind the Sith Lord, they crossed the sand, meeting up with Commander Cody at the outpost walls.

"Lord Vader," Cody greeted, standing proud.

"Commander Cody," he replied, his voice clipped and tight. His mask swept left and right, surveying the outpost. "Where are your men?"

"The rest of my team await your briefing inside."

"Good," he said, striding forward. "Let's keep this short. Time is of the essence."

"Yes Sir," the trooper answered, hastily falling into step beside him.

They marched into the makeshift war room and gathered around a large rectangular table carved out of synstone. Vader stood at the head, with Appo and Cody either side. The rest of the squad leaders congregated around, watching and listening closely. He brought up a holo-map and leant forward onto the top.

"I want every single way off of this rock sealed tight and locked down. No ship leaves before I give the all clear."

"Yes My Lord," they chorused.

"Cody, you take the 212th battalion into Mos Espa. Appo, your second in command will take half of the 501st to Mos Eisley."

"What about myself and the rest of the battalion Sir?" Appo asked.

Folding his arms, Vader stood tall, towering above the two Commanders at his side. "The rest of you are with me." He whirled on his heel and started to pace. "If anyone tries to escape, you inform me immediately. Keep your eyes open and your blasters set to stun, I want them alive and _unharmed._ "

"Who are the targets?" one of the squad leaders of the 212th inquired, stepping forward.

He stopped dead, spinning back and returning to the head of the table. With a wave of his gloved hand, the holo-projector rezzed into life, displaying the four faces of the fugitives. "Three rogue Jedi: Obi-wan Kenobi, Ferus Olin and Caleb Dume." He took a deep breath before continuing with a flick of his wrist. A woman's face appeared. "And lastly a Nubian Senator by the name of Padmè Amidala." Calling the holodisc back to his glove, he shoved it into his utility belt and growled. "No-one, and I mean _no-one_ is to be harmed in _any way._ Is that clear gentlemen?"

"Yes My Lord."

• • •

Three white Lambda shuttles ripped through the skies, skimming above the tops of the Jundland Waste canyons and opening out their thrusters to full speed over the never-ending oceans of sand. The undulating landscape was barren, occasionally interrupted by the odd moisture farm dotted across the unforgiving terrain.

Inside the lead shuttle, looming over the Imperial pilot, the Sith stared intently as they crossed the force-forsaken flats toward Anchorhead. In the main cabin behind him sat Commander Appo and fifteen of his best troopers, helmets in place and blasters at the ready.

"Put the ship down over there," Vader rumbled, leaning over the pilot's seat and pointing at a small dome-shaped dwelling through the viewport window. "Inform all ships to shutdown the main thrusters and glide in on anti-grav."

"As you wish My Lord. Initiating landing sequence," the young pilot replied, relaying the message and readying the controls. The wings lifted into landing position and the pilot utilized the ship's anti-grav sensors to bring it softly to ground.

Vader returned to his troopers, hands tightly balled into fists at his thighs.

"Commander Appo, you and your team will stay on the shuttle until I give the signal. When I return to the surface, I want all but yourself transferred to the remaining two transports."

"We're not going with you My Lord?" Appo asked, leaning forward.

"No Commander," Vader said, turning to leave. "I must do this _alone._ " With a flourish of his cloak, he left the shuttle, thundering down the steel ramp and out into the night.

His combat boot crunched into the sand, and he froze in place, staring at the synstone establishment. The whistling winds tugged and pulled on his cape, flapping the weighty black fabric in the air. Far off in the distance echoed the taunts of the sand people, honking and howling like a pack of wild reek. Once more the memory replayed and he shook his head, purging the vision.

He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to remember.

But fate had forced him to return, dragging him back to the very roots of his past life.

The life of a child slave.

The life of a haunted Jedi.

And _now ..._ the life of a Sith.

His eyes drifted to his mother's grave. Where before stood only two headstones, now sat three, inconveniently located between himself and the homestead. Curiosity gnawed at him, morbidly wondering as to who the third belonged to. He couldn't help himself, finally taking careful steps toward the burial site.

Stopping to read the inscription, he fought back the lump suddenly rising in his throat. So his alleged stepfather was also dead, lost to the ever-shifting tides of the desert, now buried right beside his ill-fated mother.

His mother. He stared silently, reading and re-reading the inscription on her headstone, his fingers twitching involuntarily. If only Kenobi had have listened and let him come back. Just one trip. That's all he needed. Just one harmless trip back to check on her when the dreams started. Perhaps she would still be alive.

Perhaps he wouldn't have ...?

His heart hammered. The respirator faltered. Followed by an unexpected sharp stab in his torso from the medicator unit. His skin tingled and muscles burned, tensing from the raging inferno starting to take hold.

"No," he growled, clenching his fists tight. Such thoughts were foolish. He was a Sith Lord. The second most powerful man in the galaxy. And the force was his ally. Grinding his teeth, he closed his eyes and slipped further into the darkness.

Several meters below the surface, Padmè returned to the twins' bedroom and sat on her cot. Their bags were all packed and hidden away, tucked out of sight in the workshop and ready for a quick exit. She sighed and tried to strangle another yawn. Glancing at her wrist chrono, she leant back against the wall and rubbed her eyes. The suns would be up soon and she was yet to get any sleep.

A sudden icy chill swept through her veins. The twins must have felt it too because they both had startled awake, now sitting bolt upright in their cot. Pulling her robe in tight she pushed herself up and went over to them. Both Luke and Leia stared around the room wide-eyed as if they'd seen something.

"It's alright my loves," Padmè cooed, trying to get them to lay back down. "There's nothing there, you can go back to sleep." She stroked their hair, and rubbed their backs but neither child responded. She sighed, resting forward on the rail.

Leia was getting more unsettled by the minute, now starting to fidget with her fingers. Luke laid back down and curled up, but kept his eyes open.

"Now Leia, sweetheart, please lay back down for mummy. She needs to sleep." Padmè kept trying to get her daughter to relax but it seemed the harder she tried, the more the infant resisted. Maybe if she got them a bottle it would help them relax. Pulling away from the cot, she turned and headed for the door.

" _Padmè."_

She froze in the doorway then quickly spun back around, her eyes frantically darting everywhere. That was his voice. She'd heard him in her head, just like back at the Senate building before she left with Bail. It was more of a whisper than anything, like a fleeting thought or memory echoing inside her mind. But she could recognize that voice anywhere.

Grabbing her blaster from the small bedside drawers, she briefly stopped by the twins and gave them a quick kiss. "Mummy has to go for a minute. Stay here until I get back. I won't be gone long, I promise."

Luke and Leia silently stared back at her, watching as she darted out the door.

Padmè ran down the rear corridor and into the workshop, quickly stopping to activate Artoo and Threepio who were powered down for the night.

"Oh Miss Padmè, how might I be of service? Would you like a warm drink or perhaps something to eat?" Threepio asked.

Artoo twittered.

She shook her head, quickly glancing toward the swoop bike parked at the back. "No, thank you Threepio. I need you to go into the twins' room and watch over them until I return."

Artoo twittered and whistled, turning his domed head between the golden protocol droid and Padmè.

"But Miss Padmè, where are you going?" Threepio protested. "You know it's not safe out there after dark. What with those dreaded sand creatures and the scavenging ..."

"Just do it Threepio," she interjected, stopping him before he started on one of his long-winded rants. "I need to go. If I'm right, we could all be leaving here _very_ shortly."

"Leaving? To go where? Does Master Kenobi know ..."

"Threepio _!_ "

Artoo whistled again, turning his photo-receptor to his argumentative counterpart.

"Oh, well ... yes Miss Padmè," he replied, turning and clanking for the door. "Come along Artoo, we have work to do." The old droids left the room.

Padmè turned and ran for the workshop entrance, skidding along the side of the swoop bike and bolting up the passage. Like every other part of the homestead, it was all underground, resembling more of a tunnel than a driveway. On the walls either side, the bunker lights flickered as if battling for power. Puffing and panting, she ran up the gravelly surface, heading for the closed blast door.

Could he really be here? Could the local garrison have gotten her message to him that quickly? It had only been a matter of hours since she got back, had he have been that close? No ship, Imperial Star Destroyer or otherwise, could make the journey to Tatooine from Coruscant that quickly. Not even her old yacht, and that thing was built for speed.

Reaching the end, she leant on the door to catch her breath. Her heart was racing, her lungs burning. Another shiver wormed its way through her body and she pulled the robe in tighter around her nightdress. Hands trembling, she aimed the blaster with her right, activated the security panel with her left and nervously waited.

The armoured door slowly opened, giving way to the cool night winds. They rippled through the heavy fabric of her robe, chilling her to the bone. A deep red glow was rising across the horizon indicating the twin suns were now making their short journey into the sky. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the doorway and out onto the sand.

One foot in front of the other, she cautiously walked around the side of the homestead, eyes and ears searching. The instant she heard the familiar rasp of the respirator, her stomach leapt into her throat and she ran toward it. The closer she got to the front of the hovel, the colder she felt, like she was rushing headlong toward an oncoming blizzard or snow storm.

Rounding the side wall, she skidded to a halt when she saw the three shuttles parked on the sand. If there was any doubt lingering in her mind, it was now long gone. Anakin was here. And going by the uncomfortable chill in the air, he was not happy.

Taking a deep breath, she started for the main entrance trying to work out a way of controlling the inevitable confrontation. A towering black shadow appeared before her and she stopped, breathless. He silently turned around, his helmet and mask making any ability to discern his reaction impossible. Like him, she too remained quiet, stunned into silence at the sight.

For some ridiculous reason she had expected to see the welcoming image of her devoted Jedi protector, with long golden waves jostling and crystal blue eyes sparkling. She inwardly berated herself. He must've sensed her shock, shifting his stance and gruffly folding his arms just below his flashing chest plate. She tried to speak, but couldn't find words. The air grew even colder, freezing the very blood in her veins.

"Anakin?" she whispered, not as a question of his identity, but more to ascertain his current emotional state. There was an audible momentary shift in his breathing, but for all else he remained statuesque, not moving a muscle. His long black cloak billowed in the wind, his midnight armour shimmering in the fading moonlight. For a moment she wondered if he'd even heard her, but the thought quickly evaporated at the rumbling sound of his augmented voice.

"Padmè," he growled stiffly. It wasn't one of his warmest of welcomes, far from the once rushing embraces of her Jedi husband. Even at Mustafar he'd bounded toward her, arms extended and crushing her in against his muscular chest. He was evidently still angry, furious at her for leaving him.

"I take it you got my message then?" she asked, folding her own arms and mimicking his annoyance.

"I did." He tilted his head to the sky, and she imagined his eyes briefly closing behind the lenses, probably feeling out for his surroundings. Did he not trust her? Did he think she'd betrayed him again? His lack of response was irritating. If he kept this up she was going to have to march over there and rip his helmet from his head just so she could slap him hard across the face. Perhaps that would wake him up to his senses.

"Well?" she asked kicking her hip out, not attempting to disguise the twinge of anger in her tone.

"It was ... _interesting_. But I doubt the recording had the effect you were hoping for."

 _Hoping for?_ _Interesting?_ What in the name of Shiraya was going on in that twisted mind of his? Did he think this was all some kind of elaborate ruse to get him to turn back to the light? Had she not already told him, more than once, that she no longer cared as to whether he favoured the light or dark side, so long as they were together?

"For crying out loud Anakin," she huffed, pushing her hair out of her face. The wind was picking up and she was struggling to stay exposed to it in her current attire. "What's going on inside that head of yours?"

His mask turned on her again. She had his attention. " _He's_ here, isn't he?" he hissed, dropping his arms down and clenching his fists. It wasn't a question, more a statement of fact. He'd obviously sensed Obi-wan's presence and everything else was now tainted by it. Stained by the hindering resentment he held for his former master and brother.

Padmè sighed, dropping her eyes to the floor. "Yes, he is," she said sadly. "But I had rather hoped we could move past that fact."

A deep, rumbling growl shattered the silence. He grabbed his lightsaber and charged toward her, the temperature surrounding them plummeting to a sudden all-time low. "How _dare_ he come here!" he snarled and she could hear his teeth grinding through the words. Her heart started to race as the distance between them grew shorter. Holding up her hands, she tried to regain his focus.

"Anakin, wait."

He either didn't hear her or completely ignored her, barging passed her toward the main door, the lengthy fabric of his cloak brushing against her arm. Panic set in. If he went in there, through the door it would set the perimeter alarms off, suddenly alerting everyone currently sleeping inside to his presence. She lunged forward, grabbing his cloak and pulling on it hard.

He violently stopped, spinning around to no doubt glare at her.

She stared up at him in desperation, her wide hazel eyes sparkling. "Not that way, _please_. I'm not going to try and stop you, but first we need to talk."

He relaxed his stance slightly and holstered his saber. "Need to talk about what?"

She breathed a sigh of relief. He'd stopped. Now she just needed to get him to wait long enough to show him something that might _actually_ affect him. "Come with me, there's something I want you to see," she said, gently gripping his arm and tugging him away from the door.

"Very well. But you do realize you are only delaying the inevitable?" he said, following her around the side of the synstone dwelling.

"Yes, I know," she whispered in defeat, leading him toward the workshop driveway.

The blast door creaked open, groaning through the copious amount of sand lodged in its tracks and they entered the tunnel. Trudging down the dimly lit corridor, his steps became more and more laboured the closer they got. He was clearly hesitant to enter the workshop for reasons she remembered all too vividly. He suddenly came to a stop, his armoured body turning to stone by the doorway.

"Must we talk in _there_?" he asked, pointing his armoured glove toward the parked swoop bike.

The weakness was evident in his tone; he was struggling to step foot inside the haunted workshop, unwilling to retrace his past footsteps. She turned around and took both of his hands, holding them pleadingly between them. "I know this is hard for you Ani, but this is the only place we can talk in private. Every other room has someone sleeping in it. Please, I _need_ you to do this," she said, staring up into the scarlet lenses and trying to search out his eyes.

His breathing skipped. He silently nodded and she continued to guide him inside. They walked past the swoop bike and into the workshop, stopping once they reached the centre of the room. He stood rigid, refusing to look anywhere but at her.

"Well?" he asked stiffly.

"First," Padmè said standing before him, "reach out with the force, like you normally do. Tell me what you sense."

He went silent, save the hiss in and out of his respirator echoing off the synstone walls and ceiling. After a brief moment he spoke.

"It is turbulent. Difficult to distinguish. I can sense Kenobi ... _somewhere_. But his presence is muted and distorted."

She smiled. So Obi-wan had managed to shield them, that was a relief. "Do you not sense anything or _anyone_ else?"

Another pause. He growled, appearing to get frustrated. "I sense ... _something._ But like I said, it is distorted. Why? What are you getting at?"

The two of them stared expectantly at each other. Holding his hands, she pressed them to her chest and prayed for him to listen, hoping he could control his overwhelming desire to murder his former master. "Anakin, if I asked you to wait here, for just a moment, would you do it?"

"That depends on the reason Padmè."

She bit back the retort threatening to leap from her mouth. He still doubted her intentions. "Please. Just wait here until I come back. It's important."

Another grunt escaped his vocoder, but she knew it was a sign of his reluctant agreement. "Very well," he growled lowly. "But if you're not back in five minutes, I'm coming in after you."

She nodded. "Thank you. I won't need that long." With no time to waste, Padmè disappeared through the door.

Vader headed over to the swoop bike, running his gloved flesh hand along the panels. Images of his grief stricken journey flashed before his eyes. So many emotions threatened to take over and it took all of his focus to will them away. He remembered Padmè cradling him in her arms while he sobbed into her breast. The memory stirred something deep inside, something unsettling and distantly familiar. He pushed it away, not wanting to think on its potential implications. He started to pace back and forth, growing more impatient with every second.

Padmè peered around the sitting room doorway, checking to see that Obi-wan was in fact still asleep. He was, but it seemed like he was beginning to stir, his breathing shifting into an odd rhythm. Tiptoeing passed him, she took the rest of the money she withdrew from Anakin's account and laid it on the table for Owen and Beru. The sizable amount had barely even scratched the surface of his credits, yet it was big enough to allow the Lars's to purchase a new land-speeder, several new moisture vaporators and still leave sufficient funds to hire extra hands for the upcoming harvest. It wasn't much, but she had to leave something to show her gratitude for looking after them.

Obi-wan groaned, and she knew time was rapidly running out. Hurrying as quietly as she could, she left the sitting room and headed for the twins' bedroom. Threepio and Artoo were still there, dutifully watching over the two still awake babies.

"Oh Miss Padmè, you're back," Threepio said shuffling toward her. "I was starting to worry."

Artoo whistled in agreeance, echoing his counterpart's assessment of the situation.

"There was never any need to worry, Threepio," Padmè said leaning down into the cot. "But I need your help now, both of you. We have to move, quickly, there isn't much time."

"Are we going then?" Threepio asked.

"Yes, I was right," she said, picking up Luke and straddling him on her hip. Balancing the infant boy, and tucking his arms around her neck, she retrieved Leia, settling her onto her hip opposite her brother. Both twins gripped on tight, wrapping their tiny arms and legs around her. "Come along now, both of you. We have to get moving." She staggered for the door and left the bedroom with Artoo and Threepio close behind.

 _Where is she?_ Vader wondered, his limited patience starting to wear thin. In Padmè's absence he'd tweaked the controls on the swoop bike so it would run better. Had it been more than five minutes? Did he need to go get her? Dropping his hands to his back, he settled into posture and searched the force. It responded, informing him of his wife's imminent return. But something was off. Her presence was _different._ There was an odd sense of nervous excitement hovering about her.

The door opened behind him and his ears picked up the unforgettable rattle and shuffle of the old protocol droid. So she still had him. But C3-PO wasn't the source of the disturbance he was sensing. It was something else ...

"Ani?"

He slowly turned around, hands locked at his back. For a moment time stood still. His respirator stopped. Where before anger and frustration surged through his veins now was only shock. His heart hammered uncontrollably, and he felt the candle flickering back to life. Stunned in place, he struggled to speak, confused, amazed and in utter awe.

"You ... you ... _found_ them?" he croaked, suddenly feeling uncomfortably weak and claustrophobic.

Struggling to manage the weight of both children, Padmè smiled and staggered forward. She knew just by the sound of his voice, that his eyes had shifted back to that beautiful cerulean blue she missed. "Yes Ani, aren't they wonderful?" she sang crossing the room.

He automatically went to her, holding his hands out to touch the two infants. Standing mere millimetres away, he traced his gloved finger down the curve of Luke's cheek. Moving to Leia, he brushed the tender chestnut locks away from her cherub face. Both children stared wide-eyed up at him, completely entranced by his appearance.

"They are simply too perfect for words Angel," he said looking down into Padmè's glistening eyes.

Her smile stretched across her face and a tear of joy slipped down her cheek. "Luke, Leia, this is your Daddy," she whispered. Their faces moved between mother and father but neither child cried.

Luke reached his chubby hand out toward Vader's mask, trying to touch it. He bent down slightly permitting the contact.

"He knows who you are," Padmè whispered. "Would you like to hold him?"

"More than you know," he answered, straightening back up.

"Well, go on, take him, he won't bite."

He disentangled the boy's arms from her neck and gently picked him up, pulling him into his arms. Luke looked up at him, blue eyes – his eyes – searching for his face behind the mask. His little hand reached up again, tracing the angular edges of his mouth guard. Vader was completely entranced, lost in the stare of his son's eyes.

"Dad-da."

His heart stopped and despite the respirator, he suddenly couldn't breathe. "Yes my son," he croaked, overwhelmed. The force twisted and barrelled between them, forging and securing the father-son bond. The flickering candle surged within, the flame dousing his inner-self with its luminescence. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the Empire, not the Jedi, not even Kenobi. Everything he could ever want was standing right here in this very room.

He felt the warm tears fall, tasted their salty essence on his scarred lips. Lifting his eyes from his son, he gazed into Padmè's and made a silent vow to himself. No matter what – even if it meant his own life was forfeit – he would protect his family by whatever means necessary, and force help _anyone_ who dared try and take them from him.

"You're staring at me, aren't you?" Padmè said, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

"Perhaps," he muttered.

"So ... what now?" she asked.

Vader looked down at his son then to his wife and daughter, then finally over to the swoop bike. With a heaving sigh, he turned back to Padmè, his mind finally made up. "Now, my love ..." he said as softly as his vocoder allowed, "we leave."

Unbeknownst to the Sith and his wife, two deep brown eyes spied from behind the doorframe, watching the entire scene unfold before her. _Oh no you don't. Not on my watch. I won't let you destroy her again._ Sabè spun around and bolted for the sitting room as fast as her legs could carry her.

" _Obi-wan. Obi-wan. Wake up! WAKE UP!"_

The weary Jedi rubbed his eyes and tried to roll over. Whatever it was, it could wait, he was far too tired for any nonsense right now. Something or someone grabbed hold of his arms and shook him roughly. Without opening his eyes, his hands flew to whoever it was shaking him, and pushed them away with a grunt.

"Wake up! He's going to get away!" the voice yelled.

He yawned and pulled the blanket up under his chin. "Do you mind? I'm trying to sleep," he groaned, covering his face and refusing to move.

"Master! Did you feel that?" Jaina cried, bounding into the sitting room and stopping beside the handmaiden. "Master!"

"Oh for goodness sakes, not you too," he moaned, reluctantly opening his eyes. "What is with you two this ..." He suddenly lurched up into a sitting position, shaking off the sleep induced fatigue. The force! It was screaming at him, the malevolent chill of the dark side striking him hard in the chest. He shot to his feet and stared bleary-eyed at the two anxious women standing before him. "Where is he?" he yelled, in a state of sudden panic, now completely awake.

"He just left the workshop with Padmè and the twins! I saw him! He's here Obi-wan," Sabè screamed, practically dancing in place. "Darth kriffing Vader is here!"

He quickly tugged on his robe and grabbed his lightsaber. "Jaina, you stay here and look after Sabè. I will deal with Ana – I mean – Vader myself."

"No! I want to come with you, you need me," the blonde padawan protested, moving to follow him to the door.

"Like hell I'm staying here!" Sabè yelled chasing after them. "That's Padmè out there, and I swore my life to her protection!"

Obi-wan spun to face the two women, his face taught with distress. "Jaina, you _must_ stay here. Your unhealthy obsession with Anakin is not going to help here. He is a Sith Lord, and believe me, he _will_ kill you. Sabè, Padmè has made her choice. I am going for the children, they are the ones who need protecting." Lecture concluded, he turned and ran into the central crater leaving the two women behind.

Commander Appo stood by the shuttle ramp, shuffling the last few troopers to the other transports. Vader and Padmè waited out front, carrying Luke and Leia in their arms. All three shuttles were preparing for take-off, their engines whirring in the early dawn winds. On the horizon, Tatoo I and II were just visible, peeking above the sand-dunes with an eerie orange-red glow.

Obi-wan stopped dead outside the homestead, staring in horror at the scene. After several short breaths, he dropped his shields, releasing his presence into the force. "Let them go Anakin," he called out, pulling his lightsaber from his belt.

Vader immediately stiffened. He gritted his teeth and went to spin around when Padmè gripped his arm.

"No Ani, please," she begged, staring up at him pleadingly. "Don't do it, we have a second chance, take it."

He growled, startling Luke in his arms. He looked down at his son then to his Commander, now aiming his blaster at the intruder. " _Padmè_ ," he hissed barely controlling himself.

"Please! I can't bare the thought of you two hurting each other any more," she cried, trying to reach him. "Can you not let it go? Can we not just leave this place and find somewhere new to raise our family?"

He briefly considered her suggestion, but the act was pointless. There was no stopping him now, Kenobi was here and he intended on separating them. And _that_ was unacceptable. Lifting his mask to the air, he looked past Padmè to the trooper by the shuttle. "Commander, escort my wife into the main cabin."

Releasing Luke's hold from his suit, he moved to hand him back to Padmè, when she vehemently shook her head and stepped back. She was trying to trap him and using their son against him.

"Fine, have it your way," he snarled, thundering up the ramp and handing Luke over to his Commander. The instant the boy left his touch, he wailed, the sudden waves of fear rippling across their bond.

"Just let them go Anakin, while they still have a chance," Obi-wan said, slowly edging closer. "You know what he will do to them."

Vader whirled on his heel and charged down the ramp, calling his lightsaber into his hand. "Get on the ship Padmè," he snarled as he passed, only stopping once his boots crunched back into the sand.

Commander Appo walked down and tapped Padmè gently on the arm. "Come Lady Vader, let's get the children to safety. We both know how this ends."

Glancing nervously between Anakin and Obi-wan, she fought the urge to run between them, using her body as a shield. But she couldn't, not now, not with Leia in her arms. She sighed, and nodded to the Commander, following him up the ramp and into the shuttle.

Vader looked back and saw that they were now safely on board. A vicious sneer creeping its way onto his face. He had them, now all that was left was to take care of Kenobi and his new life could start. Widening his feet, he poised himself and stared at his former master only metres away.

"I've been waiting for this Obi-wan," he growled, his long cloak flapping in the wind. "You should have finished what you started when you took my legs and left me to burn. Now you will pay dearly for that mistake."

Obi-wan moved into position, preparing to fight. "A mistake I have no intention of making again, Anakin."

Vader ignited his saber and gripped the hilt with both hands, taking a heaving step toward his old master. "Don't worry, this time you won't get the opportunity."

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Wow, I couldn't believe the response I got from the last chapter. You guys are amazing!

Thank you so much for your reviews: **Sfloresf** , **LittleMelly** , **RyuuShadow** , **HL star wars** and **Guest** (sorry your user name didn't come up): and a warm Sithly welcome to the story's new followers.

Sorry for the cliff hanger, but we _are_ at that point in the story. I'll get the next one out as quick as I can. If all goes to plan, Part 2 should be out by _next_ Sunday.

Hope you all enjoy it and as always, MTFBWY.


	33. Chapter 30: Proelium Fratrum: Part 2

**Chapter 30: Proelium Fratrum**

 **Part 2 –**

Vader roared and charged forward, lifting his red blade high. In three thundering strides, he was upon him, the thrumming saber swinging for his neck. Ducking down, Obi-wan dodged the strike, spinning for counterattack. Still advancing, the Sith turned slightly and slammed his weapon sideways, intercepting the thrust and driving it away.

Stumbling back, Obi-wan fought to keep his footing. Vader advanced again, his cloak rippling in the air as he whirled and charged forward. His movement was clunky but effective, navigating his way across the sand with ease. The dark side of the force swirled around him, suffocating the light Obi-wan was so desperately trying to hold on to.

He came at him again and again, swinging furiously. Each blow like being hit by a tank, carrying with it enough force to shatter bones. Losing ground, he backed toward the homestead, deflecting and parrying between each laboured breath.

"What's wrong Obi-wan?" Vader snarled, pulling his blade back into position and striding forward. "Tired already?"

Obi-wan heaved in a breath and readied for his attack. His grey eyes hung on the black mask coming at him, imagining the burning gold eyes flashing within. "Not tired, just _disappointed_."

Vader saw red. He growled and lunged. Even now, clearly overwhelmed and outmatched, he was still managing to be pompous. Aiming for his chest, he thrust his saber forward. The blue beam caught it. The two blades sparked and hissed between them. "FOOL!" he boomed, pressing his weight into the contest, glaring at his former master in disgust. "Do you think I care for your feelings?"

Determined grey eyes stared up over the arcing plasma, as if they'd found his concealed behind the crimson lenses and locked on. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, his greying auburn hair slicked and wet. He seemed so small beneath his saber, as if with one heaving push his body would crumble.

"No," he said, forcing his scarlet blade away and staggering back. "You only care about yourself."

A cry came from the shuttle, jarring his focus. He briefly glanced to the ship. Padmè was there, staring at him, he could feel her fear radiating through the force. Some of his troopers had also gathered around, watching the fight from the ramps.

"Palpatine _will_ kill them Anakin. Luke and Leia are safer with me."

He snapped his mask around. The moment of distraction giving his old master time to put distance between them. He was now pressed up against the side of the homestead, his lightsaber held upright at his chest.

"I am their father!" Vader roared, clutching his saber in both hands. "They _belong_ with ME!" He charged forward at full speed, teeth clenched and heart racing. The thud of his pulse pounding in his ears. Hoisting his saber over his shoulder, he ploughed it through the air with all of his might.

He missed. The insufferable Jedi diving for the floor at the last second. His blade suddenly chewed at the synstone, his armoured body crashing into the wall. He watched Obi-wan scramble to his knees. Pushing away, he growled in frustration and kicked. His boot found his leg, taking it out from underneath and throwing him onto his back. The crimson sword slashed right, then left, each time hitting nothing but air.

His former master was exhausted, crawling back and gasping for breath. Closing his eyes behind the mask, he drew on the force and lifted his blade.

Obi-wan too felt through the force, stretching out for a sign like Qui-gon had instructed. Up until this moment, it had remained silent. But it spoke to him now, urging him into action. Lifting both hands he focused and pushed forward.

Vader instantly flew back, letting out a scream as he tumbled through the air and landed with a thud. A surge ripped between them, a sudden burst of anger that charged the air. He leapt to his feet and recalled his lightsaber.

Back in position, Obi-wan steadied himself, preparing for the next round. The force was whispering to him. Pushing him to respond. He watched his former padawan standing before him, fighting back the rolling shiver rippling through his veins. The image of his brother so consumed by the darkness, tearing a gaping hole in his heart.

Vader stalked forward, a little slower this time, carrying his lightsaber down at his side. His left fingers twitched and moved into a pinching gesture. A sudden tightness formed in his throat. He was trying to choke him! Throwing his hands up, Obi-wan repelled him again, but it wasn't nearly as effective. The push made him pause, shifting into a forward lean, the flapping of his cape the only evidence of his efforts. To make things worse, the tightness was still there, slowly but surely squeezing tighter.

He choked back a cough, not wanting to give the Sith the satisfaction of seeing him struggle. Every breath was a battle and his lungs started to burn. He couldn't keep this up for much longer. He swayed and staggered, fighting to stay alert. Vader moved in again, twirling his saber in his hand.

"Your powers are weak, old man," he snarled, striding closer. "I expected more of a fight."

"I haven't given up yet," Obi-wan croaked, slowly edging back. His lightsaber felt heavy in his grip, his arm suddenly feeling like some foreign limb attached to his body.

"I should hope not."

The Dark Lord lengthened his stride, once again lifting his humming red blade into attack position. Closing the distance, he took two last heaving steps and let out a cry, lunging forward and sweeping his saber down at full thrust.

Obi-wan blocked him and staggered, gasping at the sudden rush of oxygen filling his lungs. He was needing to move on instinct as Vader finally unleashed. He was now just a blur of black and hissing red, his lightsaber swinging left, then right. Vader pressed on, using his strength to force him back toward the homestead. The blows were relentless – to neck, to leg, to shoulder, to arm – each time the sheer power of his strike sapping his energy. His heart started to race as he realized he was done. He had nothing left and his former brother could taste it, intensifying his attack until he had him stumbling and tripping over his own feet.

One more parry saw him lose his footing, and he awkwardly tumbled to the floor. It was over. He couldn't go on, he had nothing left. He puffed and panted staring up at the Dark Lord as he stood triumphantly over him. The bloodied saber moved to his throat, its radiant heat almost singeing his skin.

Vader's breathing was ragged, rasping in and out with sincere difficulty. He loomed over him, his cape flapping in the wind and the morning suns' rays reflecting off his now battered body armour.

Obi-wan closed his eyes and drew on the force, hoping to find peace before he departed. He could hear the shift in Anakin's breathing, the shuffle of his boots on the sand, the violent hum of his saber as it swung away from his neck. _I'm sorry Qui-gon, I've failed._

"ANAKIN STOP!" Padmè cried. "Don't do it, _please!_ "

"Get back on the ship Padmè," Vader rasped.

"Obi-wan NO!"

His glazed eyes opened at the sound of wild blaster fire. Sabè ran out of the homestead doorway, firing blindly into the air.

"Sabè ... the twins ... save the twins," he croaked. Unable to keep his eyes open, he dropped his heavy head back onto the sand and listened to the force. In the distance he could hear Sabè and Padmè yelling ...

Vader's lightsaber humming ...

The unsteady rasp of the respirator ...

The swoosh of air, the thud of his boot ...

This was it. He imagined the crimson blade sailing down at his chest. Two calming breaths. His life played before his eyes, the death of his master, training the little slave boy, watching him grow into the Jedi knight he had come to love.

 _Obi-wan, it is time._

" _Qui-gon!"_ he cried through the force.

 _Remember things are not always how they seem._

The dark side surged. Vader roared.

"NO!" a female voice screamed accompanied by the sudden snap-hiss of a lightsaber. He strained to open his eyes, seeing the strobing image of Jaina coming to his aid. She leapt forward and ...

CRACK.

Green and red plasma sparked just above his head. His eyesight was fading. "Jaina ... just ... go," he croaked between breaths.

He caught sight of her flying back, no doubt being thrown aside by Vader's brute strength. His robotic voice boomed from above, followed by thumping footsteps. Jaina replied something back that sent the force into turmoil. Padmè cried out again. Straining to hear the conversation he was then deafened by the heavy thud of armoured boots on the sand near his ear.

 _THUD ... THUD ... THUD._

Something smashed into his head. With a final gasp, he blacked out.

• • •

Cold. It radiated from all around. A quaking shiver rippled through his muscles. He ached everywhere. He squeezed his eyes tight and clamped his teeth, as the shiver aggravated the crippling throb of his head. Where was he? What happened? And why was it so blasted cold?

Dragging his hands out from under his chest, Obi-wan pushed on the hard surface beneath him. Every movement hurt. His elbows shook with his weight. He struggled into a sitting position and slumped forward, rubbing his eyes.

He obviously wasn't dead. He hurt far too much for that. The final moments of his fight with Anakin flashed in his mind. Jaina. She'd come to save him. Did she survive? Had Anakin killed her?

His heart started to race. Willing his eyes open, he strained to make out his surroundings. A distant rumbling echoed on the stale air. Rubbing his eyes again, he blinked, trying to see clearly. It made no difference, all he could make out was darkness. As black as space without the stars, so dark he could barely even see his own feet.

Patting himself down, his hands reached his belt. His lightsaber was gone. He dragged his fingers through his hair and groaned. His head pounded again. Spreading his feet, he tried to stand. His knees trembled as a sudden wave of inertia swept over him. He sat back down with a grunt. Wherever he was, it was moving.

"You are currently sitting in a containment cell aboard my Star Destroyer."

The deep baritone voice startled him. His eyes darted around the darkness, landing on two blinking lights in the distance – one red and one green. The hiss of Vader's respirator suddenly filled the cell, rebounding eerily off the alloy walls and floor.

"Right," Obi-wan said folding his arms. "And I assume you have my lightsaber?"

"Yes."

He got up and started to trudge around the cell, trying to decipher wall from ceiling. "So tell me Anakin," he said looking anywhere but in his direction, "what now? I'm guessing I'm only alive because you need me for something."

A low growl came from the flashing lights, followed by the screech of metal on metal. " _No,_ " he hissed, his boots now thumping heavily on the floor. "You are _alive_ because Padmè begged for your life."

Obi-wan raised his brow, turning to face the pacing Sith. "I see," he said, folding his arms. "So why are _you_ here?"

"To make sure you were still breathing," Vader snapped, quickening his stride.

The lights flickered on, bleaching the former master and padawan in their fluorescent glow. Obi-wan quickly shielded his eyes, trying to adjust. A black shadow slowly came into focus heading for the blast door.

Vader lifted his wrist to his mask. "He's awake," he growled, hitting the security panel. The blast door whooshed open revealing the grey corridor outside and the dark lord went to leave.

"Did you kill her?" Obi-wan whispered.

Vader stopped dead, keeping his back to the Jedi. His breathing cycled for a moment before he moved aside, clearing the way for Padmè and some other redheaded woman to walk in pushing a trolley. When they passed him, he slowly turned back around, his hands balled into fists.

"No."

"Why not?" Obi-wan cried, moving after him. "She's a Jedi too. What made you spare her life and not the others?"

"You will understand _why_ soon enough." With a flourish of his cape he disappeared through the door, the stomp of his boots thundering away down the corridor.

"Don't push him Obi-wan," Padmè said pulling the trolley to a stop beside the alloy bench. "Think yourself lucky. The last time I begged him to spare someone didn't turn out quite so well."

"I'm surprised he listened at all, My Lady. Especially with the way he's been acting this past week," the redhead remarked, retrieving a pile of linens from the bottom shelf of the trolley. She dropped them down and started to dress the bench, turning it into a makeshift bed. "Lord Vader's been rather, oh how do I put it ... _unreasonable_ since you left."

Padmè sighed. She could only imagine how _unreasonable_ he would've been, considering how angry he was when she hung up on him at Alderaan. "Yes, I expect he was," she muttered.

Obi-wan shook his head watching the two women fuss about. "I must say, I am curious as to how he found us Padmè," he said.

"It's no mystery Obi-wan," she replied matter-of-factly, lifting a metallic dome off a plate of steaming food. "I sent him a message via the local garrison in Mos Eisley. One, he would know, could only have come from me."

His mouth dropped open. "You? When? Why would you do something like that? Knowing what was at risk?"

She poured some blue milk into a glass and placed both plate and drink down onto the table beside the makeshift bed. "It became clear to me, that you were never going to allow me to take my children away from Tatooine." She turned to face him, her deep hazel eyes sparkling intensely. "So I took matters into my own hands."

Finishing with the bed, the redhead moved to the trolley and picked up a black bag, slowly drawing the zipper back. "So you're the famous Obi-wan Kenobi, hey?" she said, pulling out a pile of medical equipment.

"Possibly," he answered. His gaze following her back to the bed, as she started to get organized. "That depends on who's asking."

She turned and smiled back at him, her crystal green eyes glittering in the fluorescent lighting. "Where are my manners?" she said, patting the bed. "I am Aleria, Lord Vader's personal physician. Please come and sit down, Lady Vader and I would like to make sure you don't need urgent medical attention."

Grey eyes met hazel. Obi-wan and Padmè stared each other down. Padmè shrugged her shoulders and pushed the trolley against the wall out of the way.

" _Lady Vader?_ Padmè _really_? You can't be serious."

She shot him a scolding glare and pointed to the bed. "Sometimes, in order to survive, one must adapt Obi-wan," she bit back. "Something you may want to think about while you have some free time on your hands."

"I don't think so," he grumbled, returning to the bench-come-bed and dropping down onto it. Aleria took his arm, still smiling, and wrapped a cuff around his bicep, strapping it tight. He cocked his brow, watching her very closely. "What are you doing?"

"I'm checking your blood pressure, Master Kenobi," she sang. "Why? Are you nervous?"

He huffed, turning his eyes back to Padmè. She seemed deep in thought, staring out into the air. "Padmè?"

"Yes Obi-wan?" she answered distantly.

He swallowed, nervous to hear the answer to his next question. "Where is Jaina?"

She spun to face him, folding her arms tight over her chest. She'd changed since they'd arrived on the ship, now dressed in a tightly fitted black corset top and long, flowing black and blood-red panelled dress skirt. He saw something dark flash across her eyes and her ruby lips suddenly pressed into tight, thin lines. "All I can tell you is that she's alive. The rest is between you, her and Anakin. I want no further part in it."

"You keep calling him _Anakin_ ," he argued. "That – that thing out there ... that thing is not Anakin!"

"That's where you're wrong Obi-wan," Padmè said with a heavy sigh. "We all allowed this to happen. You, me ... the Jedi Council." She started to pace back and forth, shaking her head. "We all knew this side of him existed. Had seen it, witnessed it, felt it and subsequently dismissed it. All consciously choosing to ignore it in favour of all the good things he did." She stopped and turned to face him, her expression grim. "And now it's up to us to fix it."

• • •

Unable to remain in the same room as Kenobi, Vader had stormed from the cell and returned to his level. He'd kept the young padawan isolated in his interrogation chamber after her bold declaration. Somehow she knew things. _Personal_ things. Things that only _he_ and the other involved parties knew about. And he was determined to find out how, even if it meant killing her to do so.

Her robed body catapulted across the room, smashing into the far wall with a thud. Blood trickled along her ivory skin, painting her swollen lips crimson. Her tear soaked eyes stared up from the floor, her force presence drenched with fear.

Vader stalked toward her, his lightsaber clinking on his belt, hands tightly clenched at his sides. "WHO HIRED YOU?!" he roared, rapidly closing in on her.

She sobbed, curling into a ball on the floor, her knees quaking. "Please, Master Skywalker!" she cried. "No-one hired me! They were just visions ... I – I swear to you! PLEASE!"

Visions? How could they be visions? Someone had to have told her. How else would she know so much about his past? About his and Padmè's marriage for force sakes? Only Palpatine knew about that outside of him and Padmè. Unless she was some sort of test set loose by his Master. Towering over her quivering body, he wrapped his gloved mechanical fingers around her throat and dragged her up from the floor, holding her face level with his lenses. He stared into her terrified eyes, watched her gasp for breath as she tugged on his grip. "I have ways of making you talk _padawan,_ " he spat. "It only gets worse from here."

She continued to sob as he dragged her by the neck across the room and threw her frail body onto the restraining bench. With a wave of his hand, the steel cuffs clamped over her ankles. Grabbing her arms, he strapped them by her hips and fastened the buckles, wrenching them tight. Moving to stand behind her head, he gripped onto her shoulders and gave her one final warning. "This is your last chance _padawan._ "

Her fear spiked, he could feel her heart racing, pumping the adrenaline through her veins. She continued to sob, unable to speak.

He growled, placing both gloved hands upon her temples, stooping over and drawing on the force. "You want to be _my_ apprentice? Then here's your first lesson." Her eyes squeezed shut and as he entered her mind, she screamed.

• • •

Padmè sat quietly in the guest quarters, cradling a very upset Leia in her arms. Sabè sat across from her on the sofa, giving Luke his morning bottle. After their fight they'd barely said two words to each other and with everything going on, it was starting to wear thin.

"I don't know what's wrong with Leia, but nothing seems to be settling her," Padmè said, casting her eyes to her handmaiden.

"It's probably being so close to that Sith husband of yours that's upsetting her Padmè," she snipped. "He tends to have that effect on people."

"My 'Sith husband' as you so politely put it, just so happens to be her father, and for your information, they both seemed more than receptive to him when they met him."

The handmaiden huffed and rolled her eyes. "Well, where is he then?" she demanded. "He's not here. Perhaps that's because he's too busy murdering people to pay attention to his so-called family."

"SABÈ!"

Leia burst into tears, wailing at the very top of her lungs and kicking her legs in the air. Padmè pulled her to her chest and started to walk, patting her back to try and soothe her.

"What Padmè? You're either brainwashed or blinded by him. He's a monster. I don't know why you don't see it."

A tear slipped down her cheek as she desperately fought to calm her daughter down. "I love him Sabè, and I know you can't see it ... but he's still in there. Anakin is still alive, and regardless of what he's done, I still love him."

Sabè jumped to her feet, resting Luke over her shoulder and trying to burp him. "He's not the man you married Padmè. Something must've gone seriously wrong inside that young Jedi's head to turn him into what he is now. It's scary."

The door slid open. Vader thudded into the room, stopping by the door when the two women stared at him. "Why is she crying?" he hissed, pointing to Leia.

"I'm not sure Ani," Padmè said walking toward him. "Nothing I do seems to make her stop."

"Give her to me," he said, moving to pick her up. He unhooked his daughter's hands from her mother and pulled her into his arms, staring down into her big hazel eyes brimming with tears. "Now my Little Angel, what is troubling you?" he rumbled, rocking her in his arms and gently swaying. She stopped crying instantly, gazing up into her father's mask completely mesmerized.

Padmè shot Sabè an 'I-told-you-so' glare and went to take Luke from her. The handmaiden didn't try to argue, knowing better than to test the current atmosphere in the room. She slumped onto the sofa and stared at the floor.

"Ani?" Padmè asked, moving beside him with Luke. "I noticed that we were still in orbit. Are we going to be returning to Coruscant?"

"I am still undecided." He spun around and faced the handmaiden on the sofa. "Do you think you can manage to not upset my daughter?"

She inclined her chin.

Walking over, he handed a now calm Leia to Sabè. She took her from him and settled back into the cushion.

Folding his arms he returned to Padmè. "I am waiting for Commander Appo and his team to return to the ship. As soon as they are back on board, we'll be leaving."

"Leaving for where?" she asked.

He went quiet, seemingly lost in thought.

She regarded him quietly for a moment, raising her brow. There was something off about him, she'd expected him to be happier, relieved that they now had their family together. But the air was chilled and prickly and there was a certain knife's edge lingering behind every word that he spoke. She wanted to ask him if he was alright, but couldn't do it in front of Sabè. He wouldn't answer such questions in the handmaiden's presence. "Ani?"

He paused again. "I need to go," he growled, suddenly snapping around and charging for the door.

Thundering down the corridor, the young Sith tried to calm the tempest swirling inside him. He'd been so focused on finding his family that he hadn't stopped to consider what he'd do once he had them. His Master would sense his children the moment they neared Coruscant, if he hadn't already. This would leave two possible outcomes. One, he would die trying to protect them and they'd end up being taken, or two, his Master would kill Padmè and the twins and punish him for his weakness. No. Returning was not an option.

He reached his quarters and strode inside. He needed time to think and recuperate. The battle with his former master had taken its toll, leaving his body weak and his mind in chaos. It didn't help his confusion when the young padawan pledged herself, asking him to train her; dropping down at his feet with her head dipped in submission.

He looked up at the command console, a distant whisper echoing in the back of his mind. Malgus's journal sat open, calling to him. Perhaps that was his answer.

His comm-unit chirped. "Yes Commander?"

" _My Lord, we have the package and are now awaiting you in the hangar."_

"You found it?"

" _Yes Sir. It was exactly where you said, buried in a trunk, wrapped in a heavy black robe. We also found a pile of old Jedi books that we thought you might be interested in, so we grabbed those too."_

"Good work Commander, dismiss your men and meet me at the bridge. We're ditching this rock."

" _As you wish My Lord. Appo out."_

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Sorry for the late update, I was aiming for Sunday, but my muse ran away.

Thank you so much for the reviews: **Guest** , **Guest** , **RyuuShadow** , **Sfloresf** , **vanellopeeee** and **Anakinsgatorgurl** : they mean so much to me.

As some of you may have guessed by the concurrent plot lines, this story is the first of a trilogy. I am currently drafting its sequel at the moment.

I hope you enjoy it, and I'll get the next one out as soon as possible.


	34. Chapter 31: Negatio

**Chapter 31: Negatio**

The bridge fell silent as he strode through the blast door. The Captain and crew all nervously watched him from their stations; their fear rippling through the force and coming at him from every angle. The only one who seemed confident and almost _excited_ in his presence, was his trooper Commander, waiting for him obediently by the viewport with package in-hand. Appo was no Rex, but he had recently proven himself more than capable of leading the 501st. He'd successfully earned the Sith Lord's respect, a feat not easily accomplished and seldom retained.

"My Lord," the trooper greeted with a nod, as Vader reached him by the viewport.

"Is that my package, Commander?"

"Yes Sir, retrieved from the Jedi's dwelling as per your orders, Sir."

Vader took the bundled up robe and started to carefully unfold it. If what the blonde padawan's memories had shown him was accurate, then this would indeed prove his suspicions about her. The weighty layers of woven black fabric slowly draped to the floor. His respirator skipped a cycle and his heart thumped forcefully in his chest, threatening his already strained composure. Gloved fingers hesitantly hovered over the shiny, metallic cylinder, slightly twitching yet never once making contact.

The trooper cleared his throat. "I checked it over before we left, My Lord, it appeared to still be intact."

"Indeed it is, Commander," he replied distantly, unable to tear his eyes away from his old Jedi weapon. "And polished, it would seem." His old master had obviously treasured his _prize_. All evidence of its tumultuous battle on Mustafar had been rubbed clean away with no visible scorch marks on the hilt or even scratches on the main cylinder. Before he could stop it, Kenobi's voice resounded inside his head, a distant memory replaying from a not so distant past.

 _Next time, try not to lose it. This weapon is your life._

It took two full cycles of his breathing before he was able to dislodge the memory. A low growl left his vocoder. His old master was right, as much as it pained him to admit. He _had_ lost his life when he lost his lightsaber for the last and final time – at least the life that he _used_ to have.

"I took the liberty of having the old books delivered to your chambers, Sir," Appo said, dropping his hands to rest at his back. "Thought maybe you might want to inspect them ... you know ... _in_ _private_."

Vader slowly lifted his mask from the lightsaber to stare at his Commander. Another of his suspicions just being confirmed. Not only was the Jedi padawan apparently an apprentice diviner, but Appo, his second-in-command, was now seemingly aware of his origins. The trooper Commander hadn't outright spoken of his deduction, but he hadn't needed to; his intentions, however innocent, were present in the candour of his tone. He couldn't be surprised though, especially with Padmè insisting on calling him Anakin constantly. It was only ever going to be a matter of time. Thankfully, so far it hadn't negatively affected his performance, nor given him the desire to question orders.

However, it would still need to be addressed ... _one_ day.

Closing his old robe back over the lightsaber, he tucked it under his arm and centred himself, clearing the troubling thoughts from his mind. "Good work, Commander. You may return to your quarters, you and your men need to rest."

"Thank you My Lord," Appo said, giving a quick salute and turning to leave.

"And Commander ..."

He spun back to face him. "Yes Sir?" he asked.

"In future, you will keep your internal musings to yourself. _Jedi_ are not the only ones capable of hearing your thoughts."

His hidden accusation and subsequent confirmation hit its mark, the trooper instantly going stiff in his presence. The nervous reaction lasted a mere second before realization suddenly dawned upon him. He nodded, an act of both respect and acknowledgement. "Understood Lord Vader."

"Good. You are dismissed." He watched the Commander leave the bridge then turned back to the viewport window. They needed to leave the sector, but without having a chance to meditate, he was going to be flying blind. "Captain?"

The Officer hurried to his side. "Yes Lord Vader."

"I want you to plot a course for the Tingel Arm using as many of the minor hyper jump routes as possible."

"Yes My Lord. Is there a particular system you wish to target?"

"Yes," he replied, whirling to face him. "Tell me Captain, are you familiar with the Ziost System?"

"Not specifically, Sir, no. But I have travelled to Felucia once or twice." The Captain stroked his chin, his eyes squinting in contemplation. "My understanding is that the two systems are located within the same sector. I can run it through the nav-computer and make some calculations."

"How long will that take?"

"No more than an hour My Lord."

Vader left the viewport for the gangway, the Officer keeping pace beside him as they strode over the crew pit. "Good. See to it Captain. Comm me when you have the details."

"Right away Sir."

He thundered from the bridge and down the main corridor, leaving the Captain to his task. Micro-jumps in comm silence were their best hope of evading his master's tracking systems. Hunting a ship through hyperspace was challenging enough, using course vectors to plot potential exit points then working from there. But short jumps in succession meant that by the time the first exit point was successfully identified, the target had already left on the new vector, effectively disappearing into the galaxy.

Any attempt to vanish was risky, and he still wasn't convinced that it was what he truly wanted to do. But what other option was there? He could avoid him for a time, had previously managed a full month in space before being called back to the palace.

Time was what he needed. Time to think, to plan, to iron out the creases. He needed a diversion, something to give him reason to not return straight away. But what?

Reaching the interrogation chamber, he activated the security panel and stepped inside, curious as to how the young padawan was recovering from his brutal assault on her mind. At first, she'd been quite resilient to his raking, battling to force him out several times before eventually surrendering.

But she had been no match for him. In less than two minutes, he'd torn apart her defences and ripped open her shields, stampeding through the fabric of her mind without mercy. There was something disturbingly satisfying about being able to invade her like that. To inflict the same sanity crushing torture that his master so frequently bestowed upon him.

The door closed behind him. Folding his arms, he scanned the room slowly, listening to the disjointed chaos of her force presence. The restraining bench was empty, the straps and buckles dangling off the sides and the alloy cuffs sprung open by the foot. She'd freed herself. Not that he had expected any different; that bench was hardly capable of detaining force sensitives.

Moving around, he thudded into the centre of the room, seeing the young padawan kneeling on the floor. She was bent over, her head buried in her hands, the long blonde braid limp down her back. Gentle sobs hung in the silence, her fragile body pulled in tight.

Something stabbed at his chest. A sudden feeling of compassion and understanding. He knew exactly how she felt. Had experienced it over and over since pledging to his master. Now he was no better than him. Stripping the young padawan of all dignity and showing her that not even the sanctuary of her own mind was safe.

The rasp of his respirator bounced off the walls, ricocheting inside his helmet. She'd asked for this. She offered herself to him. But that wasn't the sole reason for him sparing her life. Somehow their destinies had become entwined, the force urging him to stay his weapon at the last second. He wasn't prepared for her questions when he shoved her in here. Calling him Master Skywalker, and talking to him as if they'd had some sort of history. As a final ditch effort to connect, just as he had gone to leave, she'd called out to him, the initial shock rendering him speechless.

" _I know why you turned. But now, knowing that she survived, do you regret it?"_

His immediate response was to violently throw her across the room, fighting the overwhelming urge to break every bone in her body. He never gave her an actual answer, instead slamming the door shut and locking her inside.

Did he regret it? Yes.

 _And_ No.

The sound of her cough wrenched him from his thoughts, bringing him back to the reason he came in here. His boots thumped on the durasteel, as he moved to stand before her. Without saying a word, he dropped the bundled up lightsaber to the floor at her knees, waving the robe open with the force.

"Start talking," he hissed, folding his arms.

Jaina stared at the lightsaber for a moment before nervously shifting her gaze up to his mask. She stuttered in a shaky breath. "Padmè's handmaiden told me who you were after she'd seen you at the mausoleum. I didn't believe her at first." She shook her head and focused on the lightsaber. "I didn't want to believe it. But after that night at Alderaan, the force wouldn't let me forget." Wiping a tear from her eye, she went to reach for the hilt.

" _Don't_ touch it. Just talk," he snarled, stomping his foot forward.

She cautiously retracted her hand, staring back up at his mask. "When I met Master Kenobi, we talked about you. He was so desperate for answers and so was I. After a while, he asked if my ability to see could be prompted by touch." She swallowed hard, pointing her trembling finger at his weapon. "That's when he pulled _that_ out of the trunk."

He started to circle her, feeling the raw waves of pain and anger starting to build within her. "Go on."

She sucked in a hard breath. "It was like I was you. I – I felt ... _everything._ The death of your mother, the slaughter of the sand people. The pain and anguish of your nightmares ..."

He stopped and spun to face her, his balled hands shaking at his sides. "And _then_ what?" he growled through his teeth.

She stared up at him, her crystal blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "And then I _felt_ it _._ "

She gasped as she closed her eyes, wrapping her slim arms around her body. "The _darkness_ ... the tunnel vision ... the never ending fall into the shadows."

He whirled on his heel, walking away to the far side of the room. "And what ... now _you_ _think_ that you know _me_?" he hissed lowly.

"Well, I guess ..."

He suddenly spun back, charging for her at full speed, stabbing his pointed finger wildly in the air. "You think you can just waltz in, drop to your knees and _pledge yourself to ME?"_ he roared. He stopped right in front of her, leaning down so his mask hovered just above her face with his finger firmly pointed at her chest. "You don't know _anything_ about me."

She stared up into the crimson lenses of his mask, shaking. Her breaths coming in sudden, short bursts. He wanted to kill her, wanted to drive his lightsaber deep into her chest. But something was holding him back, keeping his hand locked on the hilt on his belt. The force wanted her alive.

"Master Skywalker please," she cried.

He straightened up and folded his arms, grinding his teeth. "Don't call me _that_. That Jedi is _dead._ " He started to pace around the chamber. He didn't want an apprentice, and even if he had, the rule of two forbade him ever taking one. Only two. A master and an apprentice. Darth Sidious and himself. That was the rule of the Sith, and while his master was still alive, that was how it would remain.

"As for being my apprentice, I currently have no need nor desire for one." He stopped at the door, slowly turning his mask in her direction. "However, in time, _if_ you can prove yourself worthy, I _may_ justconsider it." He summoned his troopers and stepped out into the corridor.

Two ivory clad soldiers rounded the corner, hurrying to their Supreme Commander's side. "Your orders Lord Vader?"

He pointed to the interrogation room. "Escort the prisoner to the brig. She can join the _other_ Jedi, while I decide what to do with them."

"Right away Sir."

As he turned to leave, his comm chirped. "Yes Captain?"

" _My Lord, I have the course mapped out. Awaiting your orders Sir."_

"Very well. Transmit the plans to my chamber. I will review them from there."

" _Yes Sir."_

With a flourish of his cape, he strode down the passage, leaving all thoughts of the troublesome padawan behind.

• • •

What was Padmè thinking? Sending a message to _him_ like that? Did she not think about the consequences? Did she not realize what the Emperor would do when he got them? How could she not see that Anakin was gone? Surely she wasn't that blind to it.

But then again, here he was, sitting cross-legged on the cell floor of a kriffing Star Destroyer of all places. Waiting for _whatever_. And that doctor – Aleria she'd said her name was – seemed to enjoy announcing her position a little too much. Still, the very fact that he needed a _personal physician,_ was interesting, even more so, the point that he consciously allowed someone to be that close to him.

Obi-wan lifted his head and huffed. This couldn't have been what Qui-gon intended. How was him being trapped in a cell on one of Vader's war-machines going to help Luke and Leia? Were they not the Jedi's last hope for survival?

And where in Sith's hell was Jaina? What was he doing to her? He shuddered at the possibilities. He'd seen first hand the interrogation techniques Anakin used to favour back when he was a Jedi. Force only knew how bad they were now.

His eyes darted to the blast door. The sound of trooper armour and voices echoing from outside. Someone was coming. A quick search of the force confirmed it wasn't Vader, he would've felt that icy presence instantly. Before he could probe any further, the door whooshed open and two troopers stormed in.

"Get inside _Jedi_ ," the first snapped, shoving a robed figure into his cell. "The two of you can keep each other company while Lord Vader decides what to do with you."

"Get your hands off me," the familiar girl's voice demanded, wrenching her arms away and stumbling forward.

She crashed to the floor and the two troopers laughed, closing the door.

So he hadn't killed her, he'd told him the truth. But somehow he didn't feel half as relieved as he first thought he would be. She rose to her feet and brushed her hands down her robe with a grunt.

"I've been wondering where you were," he said, not moving from his spot on the floor.

"I would've come sooner, but I was a little tied up," Jaina snapped back. She pulled her hood down and undid her braid, fluffing her hair in her fingers.

He eyed her over, his gaze drifting up and down her reasonably undamaged body. "You seem well considering."

She shot him a scolding glare and stomped over to the prepared bed, staring at the empty glass and plate on the table. "Yeah, no thanks to you."

He rose to his feet and crossed his arms. "No thanks to me? And just what is that supposed to mean?"

Dropping down onto the bench, she scowled and huffed. "Here I was thinking that you were this perfect Jedi. You told Sabè and I to wait behind while you went to save the twins, and we did. Only, instead of seeing you charge out to take on the Sith, like Master Olin said you did with Darth Maul on Naboo, I watched you throw the fight!"

"I _what_?!" he argued.

She shot to her feet and stalked toward him, her blue eyes fierce with accusation. "You heard me. You threw the fight, I saw you. If Sabè and I hadn't have jumped in when we did, you would be dead right now."

He dragged his hand through his hair, watching the young padawan unleash. "I hardly threw the fight, Jaina."

"You _hardly_ tried at _all_!" She shook her head, pacing around the cell like a caged animal. "I thought at first you were testing him, trying to pick holes in his defence. It's not until I watched you push him away, that I _truly_ _saw_ what you were doing. You speak of attachment and commitment as if they are rules to live by ..." She let her words trail off, stopping and staring at the blast door. "When in reality your own attachment and inability to let go of Master Skywalker has crippled you."

"For an apprentice diviner gifted with force visions, you don't see very well," he muttered, trudging back to the bench and slumping down. Her words cut him to the bone, stretching the already gaping wound in his heart. It's not that he intentionally threw the fight, per se, but rather couldn't stomach the sight of his former brother and best friend so entrenched in the dark side. It was one thing to know of his survival ... but to _see_ it. To _really_ see it, was another thing entirely.

"I trained him since he was nine years old, Jaina. Nine years old. I practically raised him. Sure, we had our differences as everyone does. But the bond we shared was unlike any other. I loved him. And to see my closest friend and brother, whom I'd devoted my life to try and teach and protect, turn into that _thing_ he is now ... it tears me apart."

"Yeah? Well maybe you should've done something about it when you had the chance," she shot back, seemingly unmoved by his admission.

She was so angry and hurt. Her aura dripping with emotion. Vader had done something to her. He must've done. This wasn't the same young girl he had just tried to protect on Tatooine. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "Are you hurt?" he whispered.

She glanced back over her shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Not in the way you're implying."

"Tell me."

She turned back to the door and slumped forward, seeming to shrink in size before his eyes. "He rejected me. Just like you did."

He choked. " _Excuse me?_ "

"He rejected me Obi-wan," she cried, wiping the angry tears from her face. "I asked him to train me, to show me the ways of the force. You don't want to be my master, you've grumbled about it ever since Ferus and Caleb left. So I thought, that with everything my visions kept showing me, and the way that his memories were so wedged in my head, that it was some kind of sign. A sign that maybe the connection was already there and that we were meant to pair up."

Obi-wan shot to his feet. "But he's a Sith, Jaina! What were you thinking? That Vader would somehow miraculously turn around and decide to switch sides? That he would denounce his new Master to train you as a Jedi? Look around you, are you truly that lost?"

She shrugged her shoulders and turned her back to him. "Sith, Jedi what difference does it make anymore? At least I would've had a Master. Someone who actually _wanted_ to finish my training."

"I can't believe this," he grumbled, covering his face with his hand and stumbling back to the bench. "My not wanting to take you on as my padawan had nothing to do with you personally Jaina. I thought I made that very clear."

The blast door to the cell burst open and Vader stormed in, the sudden snap-hiss of his crimson lightsaber demanding their immediate attention. The door closed behind him, and he stood rigidly still, keeping the humming blade at his side.

Great, just great. Now he had both of them to contend with. Obi-wan huffed and dropped his head to rest in his hand, not wanting to look at either of them.

"Your constant bickering has gone on long enough," Vader growled. "I can't concentrate while you two insist on broadcasting your pathetic little squabble to every force sensitive in the sector."

"Well, we wouldn't want to affect your _concentration_ now, would we?" Obi-wan quipped from the bench.

"ENOUGH! Perhaps I should give both of you your lightsabers back, so you can kill each other and save me the hassle."

"Why not, anything beats being stuck on the same ship as you," Obi-wan muttered beneath his breath.

Before Vader could respond, the blast door opened behind him and a small hand appeared on his arm. His mask tilted slightly over his shoulder and he deactivated his lightsaber. He stepped to the side, allowing Padmè to walk in. She moved in between them, running her hands up his arms.

"Ani, why don't you go back to your chamber and try again. I will talk to Obi-wan and Jaina, while you get some rest," she said quietly, trying to calm him down.

He went silent, his respirator cycling in and out several times. With a final glance over her head, he growled and spun on his heel, charging from the cell. Even as a Sith, she still had a ridiculous amount of control over him, something Obi-wan was suddenly all too aware of. When the blast door finally closed she turned back to face them, shaking her head.

"I see you still have a way with him," Obi-wan remarked folding his arms.

She turned and glanced at the door before heading to the table to retrieve his plate and glass. "Yes," she said, picking them up and going to leave. "It's like I said Obi-wan, he's still in there, we just need to coax him back out."

"Forgive me if I don't agree with you," he grumbled, watching her head for the door.

She stopped, slowly turning to look at both him and Jaina. Despite what she said, the distance in her eyes told a completely different story. Even now she didn't seem convinced he could ever come back. With a sigh she activated the security panel and rested her hand on the doorframe.

"A wise Queen once said to me, 'the day we stop believing democracy can work, is the day we lose it'," she said, turning to stare into his eyes, the defiant sparkle in hers silencing any response he could make. "And I _will_ believe in him, Obi-wan. I will fight for my husband until my dying breath." She stepped through the door and out into the corridor, turning back to close it. "With or _without_ you _._ "

• • •

Vader paced back in forth in his chamber. He didnt want to upset Padmè, but her interference had almost pushed him to the limit. She'd saved Kenobi's life once, but the next time he would not be so forgiving.

"Oooo – ooooh," Artoo whistled sadly from the corner.

He clenched his fists and continued to pace. "She can't keep doing this Artoo. It has to stop."

The astromech twittered, a long string of high pitched whistles and beeps filling the air.

Vader stopped and stared at the droid. "Of course I still love her."

Artoo whistled and beeped.

" _Him?"_ he growled, launching back into his patrol. "No. I _hate_ him. He's only _alive_ because of Padmè." Did he still care about Obi-wan? What sort of a question was that? There was a time when he would've done anything for his former master. But that time was long gone.

"Ooooh – oooh."

"WHAT?" he yelled, skidding to a halt and whirling in place. "Why _should_ I? After what he did?"

More whistles and beeps rang from the droid. Artoo rocked side to side as if to emphasize his point.

He growled. "Show me. Play back the recording."

Vader stood in silence, watching the holo of Padmè and Obi-wan in the workshop. They were arguing about him, rehashing every moment from the death of his mother and their marriage to the fight on Mustafar. Padmè blamed Obi-wan for most of it, accusing him of not talking enough. It hurt to see them discussing him like this, picking his life apart as if he was some broken jigsaw puzzle.

Turn it off, he went to say, but the words never came out. He just stared numbly, his respirator relentlessly hissing in and out. Then Obi-wan said five little words that abruptly shook him from his stupor.

" _I miss him so much."_

The gears in his artificial hand started to shake. He tightened his fists, watching as Padmè immediately went in for the attack.

" _Really?" she snapped, crossing her arms. "I find that hard to believe after what you did to him."_

" _He was trying to kill me Padmè! I had no choice," Obi-wan yelled back, jumping to his feet. "I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen."_

Damn right I was trying to kill you, he thought darkly. You turned her against me!

" _He would've listened if you had said what he needed to hear Obi-wan," Padmè bit back._

No, I wouldn't have. I don't want to hear _anything_ he has to say. I didn't then, and I don't now.

" _Oh? And what was that exactly?"_

 _Padmè stabbed her finger wildly in the air. "That you loved him, that you cared about him."_

"WHAT?" he yelled, stabbing his shaking finger at the holo-recording. "No he didn't! He _never_ cared about me! All he cared about was the _Jedi_ order and their ridiculous code."

 _Obi-wan shook his head. "Palpatine's claws were already in too deep by that point. He was gone, lost in his anger. I couldn't get through to him."_

"Turn it off." Enough was enough. The sooner Kenobi was dead, the better.

But Artoo left it playing, ignoring his command. His heart hammered wildly in his chest, pounding in his ears, but not loud enough to drown out the rest of their painful conversation.

" _Then help me Obi-wan. Help me save him. Help me bring him back."_

" _I – I can't Padmè. I'm sorry I just can't."_

The projection fizzled out and Vader stood by his hyperbaric chamber too stunned to speak. His respirator clicked and thumped awkwardly as he struggled to process what he'd just heard.

"Ooooh – oooh," Artoo whistled softly, spinning his domed head toward him.

Arms folded, he tilted his mask to stare at his loyal companion. He went to speak when the transceiver alarmed from his command console, diverting his attention. The time for nostalgia was over, right now he had bigger issues to deal with.

"I don't _need_ saving," he growled lowly, whirling on his heel and charging into the black dome.

He hit the panel and waited for a response. The Captain's face rezzed into life on the screen. "Yes Captain, what is it?"

" _My Lord, it's the Emperor. He demands you make contact Sir."_

"Very well. Give me a minute and then put him through."

" _Yes My Lord."_

Vader waited for the screen to go black, then spun around to look at Artoo. "You remember what to do Artoo?" he said, getting out of his seat.

The astromech chirped in agreeance.

He waited for him to get into position, inserting his terminal into the console and securing the comm signal. "You ready?" he asked, waiting by the holopod.

Artoo twittered.

"Right, let's do this."

Vader stepped onto the holopod, and dropped down onto one knee, dipping his masked head into position.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE: EMPEROR'S THRONE ROOM_

Darth Sidious waited for his apprentice to appear, rapping his clawed fingers upon his desk. The force had been unusually turbulent around the young Sith, and he couldn't shake the disturbing sensations from his mind. He knew he'd been hiding something from him. He'd sensed it before but had decided to let it slide, putting his sudden mistrust down to one of his usual overly emotional responses to being punished.

The bent over image of Darth Vader materialized above the holo-projector and he leant back in his throne.

" _What is thy bidding, My Master?"_ Vader said, in his usual flat, obedient tone.

"Ah, My Apprentice," he said, staring at the kneeling Sith through narrowed slit eyes. "How goes your search for your dear little wife? Have you found her yet?"

" _Yes My Master."_

The transmission flickered, briefly interrupted by a ribbon of static.

"Good, good. So you are on your way back then I assume?"

" _No Master."_

"No?" he hissed, leaning forward.

The transmission flickered again, this time Vader's image briefly disappeared before rezzing back in.

" _I have sensed a disturbance in the force that I believe to be the two Jedi from Naboo. We are currently -"_

The static increased, jolting the transmission in and out. He was losing the signal. Sidious thumped his desk in frustration. "Lord Vader," he sneered.

More static.

" _tracking ... think they could ... located somewhere ... will contact ... Master."_

The transmission hissed out. His burning yellow eyes glared at the space his apprentice had previously been occupying. He slammed his hand on the transceiver.

" _Yes My Lord?"_

"Bring back the transmission," he snarled.

" _We are trying Sire, but we've lost the signal."_

"Well FIND IT!"

" _We – we can't secure it Sire! The Exactor has disappeared from our scopes. She's out of range Sir!"_

He rose from his throne and stared out the sweeping window. "An Imperial Star Destroyer does not simply _vanish_ Commander. Find that ship."

* * *

ARKANIS SECTOR: STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: TATOOINE

Vader rose from the holopod and turned to Artoo who was retracting his terminal from the command console. "Did you disengage the ship's tracking signals?"

Artoo twittered an affirmative.

"Good. That should buy us enough time to get out of this system." He strode into his hyperbaric chamber and sat down, looking forward to a chance to finally meditate. "Now all that's left to do, is to get the fleet into hyperspace so we can't be tracked."

The droid whistled a question.

"No. Not vanish as yet. I just needed to buy us some time. The rest I will figure out when we get there." He pulled out a small black box and opened it, retrieving the red prismatic holocron from inside. Placing it down beside Malgus's old leather-bound journal, he took a deep breath and summoned the bridge.

The Captain's face appeared once more on the screen. " _Your orders My Lord_?"

"Captain, have you got the coordinates set in the nav-computer?"

" _Ready and awaiting go-ahead, Lord Vader."_

"Good. Contact the fleet. I want all ships to activate their cloaking devices and remain on comm-silence until we hit each jump point. We're going dark Captain. No-one outside of this armada is to know of this mission."

" _As you wish My Lord._ "

He cut the signal. Artoo chirped a question from behind and he spun around to face him. "No Artoo, it might pay for you to go and see Padmè. She may need some help with the twins. I'm afraid, I'm not going to be very conversational for the next few hours."

Artoo twittered as he rolled for the blast door, leaving Vader alone in his chamber.

As soon as he was gone, he activated the panel release and cocooned himself inside. The retractor arm lowered, freeing him from his mask and helmet. Picking up the holocron, he held it in both hands and closed his eyes.

"Alright Malgus, talk to me," he said, drawing on the force and slipping deep into the darkness.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Some interesting points you guys made on the last chapter, I hope this one answers at least some of your questions. As always I'd like to do a quick call out to those who reviewed.

Many thanks to: **Sfloresf, Anakinsgatorgurl, LittleMelly, RyuuShadow** and our three **Guests.**

It's countdown time, I'm not sure exactly how many chapters are left in this, as this one hasn't ended exactly where I had foreseen. But it is getting _very_ close.

I hope you enjoy it, and as always MTFBWY.


	35. Chapter 32: Nigrum et Album

**Chapter 32: Nigrum et Album**

 _Power. Even in the vision, I can feel it. The tightness, gripping at my chest. It's like gravity, pulling me deeper into the darkness. For years I fought with desire, resisting the urge to tap into the wellspring of strength my rage offered. But now, as a Sith, I embrace it._

 _The Valley of the Dark Lords closes in, drawing me into it like I'm caught in a tractor beam. The blood sky swirls overhead, the ever shifting clouds twisting and rolling, occasionally obscuring what weak light the sun provides. Under my boots, the sienna sand crunches and rustles, announcing my arrival to the shadowy figures waiting at the statues._

 _They turn to face me. Malgus's hooded cloak mirrors my own, flapping in the wind, and Eleena, her lavender lekku stiff down her chest. Closing the distance, I stop before them, dropping my hands to rest in my belt._

" _Malgus. Time is not on our side. My fleet is en-route, however their trajectory is incomplete."_

" _Well then, Lord Vader," he replies, waving his gloved hand forward, "come, let us discuss the finer details inside."_

" _As you wish."_

 _We head for the temple, moving between the formidable stone monuments and crypts, their carved hooded heads following us as we pass. The movement stirs something in the Twi'lek at my back, possibly fear, her presence flickering in my mind's eye. Malgus – striding forward at my left – turns briefly to glance at her, obviously sensing the shift._

" _Be at ease, Eleena," he says, not breaking pace. "There is nothing for you to fear. Their interest lies with Lord Vader." He looks to me as he says it, perhaps expecting some sort of reaction. I offer none, continuing onward, focused on the task at hand. Dead Sith do not concern me, only the living, and_ he _is a long way from here._

 _We reach the temple and breach its walls, entering through the cavernous opening. Primitive torches hung on the columns either side, flicker into life, shooting up the tenebrous passage like a runway. We carry on in silence, our pace unaltered. Whispers echo from around corners and glowing amber eyes linger within the shadows. The deeper we travel, the louder and brighter they get, watching on from the safety net of their respective hiding places._

 _Malgus stops at the sacrificial chamber, the same one from my previous vision of Korriban. Eleena saunters around from behind, moving to his side. His eyes slowly scan the ruins, no doubt aware of the wraithlike witnesses that surround us. He turns his attention back to me, folding his arms across his chest._

" _They see you," he states, leaning back on the podium._

" _And I, them."_

" _Are you afraid?"_

" _No, I do not fear the dead."_

 _He starts to circle the room. "You seek answers and direction. Both of which I am willing to give." He stops in front of one of the ancient statues, a strange murmur escaping his respirator. "But I need something of you in return."_

 _I fold my arms and rock back on my heels, pulling my back straight. "And what is that?"_

" _That holocron you found in the Jedi Temple, do you still have it?" he asks, slowly turning to face me._

" _Yes."_

 _The tension in his shoulders appears to ease. He heads back toward me, his amber eyes dimming somewhat as he nears Eleena. She smiles up at him and takes his hand. "Good. Bring it here, to Korriban, to this temple. Then I can help you."_

" _Why?" I ask, unable to disguise the confusion in my tone. "What good is it to you?"_

 _He lifts his head, pulling the Twi'lek in under his arm, his cape draping down over her shoulder. "I will show you when you get here."_

 _I sense a presence drawing closer. Turning in place, I scan the chamber for the source. No-one is there. The walls around me start to shift, blurring in and out of focus._

"Ani?" a voice calls from the distance. "Ani, are you in there?"

" _Go to your wife Lord Vader, I am not going anywhere," Malgus states, also beginning to disappear._

The vision fades to black. Breaking from my meditation, I stare at the still levitating holocron glowing above my hands. I can't shake the question from my mind. What good was a holocron to the dead? It's not like Malgus could touch it.

"Anakin?"

The prism closes and lowers into my palm. I take two deep breaths, moving to activate the arm to reattach my head gear. My gloved hand hovers over the release, debating my ability to breathe without it. I can do it, I know I can, even if it is for only short periods of time. Pulling my hand back, I wave the chamber doors open, hearing the clunk and hiss of the pressurized seal breaking. I turn my chair to see Padmè standing in my quarters, her long hair cascading down her shoulders, draping over the sculpted black corset. She looks good in black, but I know she only wears it for me as a subtle way of showing her support. Her hazel eyes meet my amber and I catch a fleeting glimpse of shock wash over her. My fists squeeze on my knees. "What is it, Padmè?" I growl, my tone harsher than intended.

Her throat constricts, the smallest of swallows.

"I wanted to see you," she said. "You've barely said two words to me since we arrived on your ship."

Pressing my flesh fingers into my eye sockets, I focus on taking slow and steady breaths. "I've had a lot on my mind."

"I know," she said, walking closer. "And I wish that you'd talk to me about it." She steps up onto the outer ledge of my hyperbaric chamber, tilting her head to stare into my eyes. "When was the last time you ate something?"

"I don't remember. I haven't had much of an appetite."

Her silken fingers glide down the side of my cheek, tracing along my jaw line. I can't help but stare into her eyes, mesmerized by the deep chocolate pools. Water begins to well in the corners, slowly building in volume. I'd almost forgotten the warmth of her touch, the smooth texture of her delicate skin. Closing my eyes, I push my head into her hand, needing the soothing contact.

"Your skin is clammy and your cheeks are sunken." She chokes back a sob and begins to trace the scar down my right eye. "Are you alright?"

Her voice is so fragile. "I'm fine, Padmè," I rasp, the strain on my lungs finally starting to get to me. With every feather soft caress I feel the tension in my muscles start to release. I missed this so much.

"Will you let Aleria look over you? Please Ani. I'm worried about you."

I look back up at her, keeping my head tilted down, not wanting to break the contact of her skin on mine. "Will you stop asking if I do?"

Her lips go tight. She silently nods pulling her hand away and dropping it to rest on her stomach. My skin burns where she'd touched, crying out for the sensation to return. I go to reach for her when she suddenly goes pale, as if all colour had been sucked from her skin. "Padmè?" I watch as she starts to awkwardly shake her head and stumble back. "Angel what's wrong?"

She swallows again and stares up at me from the floor, continuing to back away. "Do ... do you ... have a fresher in here somewhere?"

"Yes," I reply, pushing out of my chair. "It's over there." I point to the hidden panel behind her and wave it open, revealing my redundant bed-chamber. She turns and runs for the doorway and I move to follow her, thudding down the steps from my chamber. The door to the fresher whooshes shut before I can reach her.

"Padmè," I rasp, leaning on the door. "Is everything alright?"

She doesn't respond, but from the odd noises she's making, I can tell she's throwing up. I start to pace, growing more worried by the minute. The noises finally stop and I turn to face the door, waiting for her to come out.

The fresher opens and she stumbles out, wiping her mouth with a cloth. She looks up at me, her eyes filled with tears and my chest instantly grows tight. "What's wrong?"

"I – I don't know, Ani," she whispers, staggering toward me. "It's been going on since I got to Tatooine. I just thought it was stress." She grips my hands and takes another step closer. Suddenly, her eyes roll into the back of her head and she gasps, her legs collapsing beneath her.

My heart stops. I lunge forward and catch her, quickly pulling her limp body into my arms. Her heavy head falls back. "Angel speak to me, tell me what's wrong." Lifting her up, I quickly turn to lay her down on the bed.

She doesn't move.

"Padmè?" I kneel down beside her, squeezing her hands. She is still breathing, but her eyes make no effort to open. With no idea what is going on, or what to do, I lift my wrist-com and contact the doctor.

" _Yes My Lord?"_ Aleria's voice crackles over the speaker.

I fight to regulate my heart beat, the rapid pulse and sharp breaths close to suffocating me.

"Aleria ... my chamber ... _now!_ "

Padmè's chest rises and falls, slowly. The usual pink blush of her cheeks still absent. The room starts to spin. I need to put my mask back on, but I'm terrified of leaving her.

I can't lose her again.

Breathe _._ Just _._ Breathe _._ The tightness doesn't ease and my attention repeatedly jumps from door to bed. Door to bed. Why isn't she waking? I know I didn't do anything to her, I had barely even touched her. One more squeeze of her hand, hoping for a reaction.

She doesn't respond.

The whoosh of the chamber door catches my attention, temporarily pulling my eyes away from the bed. Aleria comes rushing in, her heavy black bag swinging in the air beside her. She sees me in my current state and immediately heads toward me.

"Not me doctor," I force out, shaking my head and turning back to the bed. "Padmè ... see to my wife."

She shoots me a scolding glare, then hurries to Padmè's side, dropping her bag down onto the bedside console. "What happened?" she asks, pulling out her equipment.

"She went to the fresher, then fainted when she came out."

Aleria pulls out a handheld medical scanner and passes it over Padmè, sweeping it along her body from her head down to her waist. The device beeps several times and I watch the redhead's facial expression change from one of concern to shock.

"Well?"

She pulls the scanner away and switches it off, placing it back in her bag. Her green eyes lift to meet my gaze, sparkling with disturbing intensity. She smiles and retrieves a small pouch holding it in the air by the bed.

"Well, her vitals are strong and she seems to be in perfect health, My Lord."

"If that is indeed the case, then why did she faint?"

"It is not uncommon for people to faint, Lord Vader. However, in your wife's case, I have a theory, but I need to run some tests before I voice it."

I rise to my feet and fold my arms, not appreciating the evasive manner in which she is speaking. If there is something – anything – wrong with Padmè, I want to know now, not later. "What is your theory?"

"I would prefer not to speculate. As I said, I need to run some tests first, then I will discuss it with you." She stands up to her full height, squaring off with me from across the bed, mimicking my aggravated posture. "As for right now, I would recommend you replacing your respirator. Your breathing is stunted and shallow and I can hear the wheeze in your lungs as we speak."

"I am ... _fine_ , Doctor," I hiss back, not interested in her useless concern for my wellbeing. "Do your tests, I want to know the moment you have the results. If _anything_ untoward happens to her, I will be holding you _personally_ responsible, is that clear?"

If she is intimidated by my tone, she doesn't show it. With her head held high, she nods, gesturing to the door. "Yes, My Lord. I will comm you when I have something to report."

"Good." I take one last look at Padmè then turn to leave. I don't like leaving her in here like this, but I can sense Aleria's hesitation in my being present for the tests. Returning to the hyperbaric chamber, I replace my head gear and storm from my quarters, needing to be anywhere but in here for the moment.

Officers pass me by, most unwilling to make eye contact and those that do give a respectful nod and then hurry away. Stopping at the guest quarters, I activate the security panel and open the door. Sabè stares up at me from the sofa, the usual look of disgust plastered on her face. Both Luke and Leia are hidden from sight, probably tucked in their makeshift cots in the rear bed chamber.

"Where is Padmè?" the handmaiden snaps, suddenly jumping to her feet.

Ignoring her question, I stride for the blast door to the far left, intent on seeing my children. With a wave of my hand the door opens and I move to go inside.

"Vader!" she barks, her bare feet hurriedly padding on the alloy floor. "Answer me. What have you done with her?"

I grind to a halt, whirling to face her. My fists shake at my sides, barely containing the sudden flash of anger broiling inside me. "Mind your tongue, _handmaiden._ Before you lose it."

"Where is she?" she almost yells, skidding to a stop before me and folding her arms.

I contemplate answering her accusatory question, but decide against it. The longer this 'conversation' continues, the more likely her sudden demise. Ignoring her insufferable presence, I turn and enter the bed-chamber waving the blast door closed behind me.

"Oh my," Threepio exclaims from beside the cot, his glowing photo-receptors fixed on my mask.

Artoo whistles and beeps, rolling toward me.

"No that can't be right, Artoo," Threepio argues, not moving from the cot. "He looks nothing like him."

The Astromech rattles off a long condescending string of beeps, continuing toward me. He stops at my feet and turns his domed head to look at me. "Ooooh- ooooh."

"Yes I have Artoo, she is currently in my chamber with the doctor." I step around him and head for the cot, seeing the two sleeping infants curled up within the blankets. The candle inside me flickers again, its frustrating luminescence threatening my composure. Leaning forward onto the crib railing, I fight the urge to pick up my son, afraid – yet desperate – to wake him. They are so precious, like a gift from the force. I reach down to push a lock of Luke's golden hair behind his ear, my heart pounding away within my chest.

"Perhaps it would be best if you waited for Mistress Padmè to return before waking them, Lord Vader," Threepio stammers, trying to be protective.

"Threepio, make yourself useful and go fetch their bottles."

Artoo twitters next to me, seemingly amused by the protocol droid's ignorance.

"Well I ... I just think it would be prudent if-"

"Now Threepio."

He takes two awkward steps back and heads for the door. "Well, yes, Lord Vader, Sir."

The bed-chamber door opens then closes and I am left staring at my two slumbering children. I had never imagined my life being like this. When Padmè had told me she was pregnant, I was elated. Thrilled at the prospect of becoming a father. Now I am unsure how to feel.

Ashamed? Unworthy?

Perhaps. Not that it matters any more. The best I can do for my family now, is keep them safe. To protect them from my Master. And that in itself presents its own set of challenges. What if I'm not strong enough to defeat him when the time comes? I have placed all of my hope on the promises of a Sith ghost. Not even a ghost, but a _vision._ What if I'm wrong about all of this?

Doubt. Weakness. It rises in my mind like a tempest, chewing away at my insides like a virus. Once again I find myself standing on a precipice, gazing down at my possible conflicting futures, unsure of which path to take. It all feels so vaguely familiar, as if I've travelled this journey before.

The room morphs before my eyes and I am standing back in the Jedi temple staring out over the busy Coruscanti skyline. Tears trickle down my cheeks as I contemplate the paths laid before me. Choose the Jedi and accept Padmè's imminent death, or, join the Chancellor and learn how to save her through the dark side of the force.

I can still feel the icy clutches of fear gripping my chest, the sudden overwhelming surge of urgency as I fled for the temple hangar. As much as I try to kid myself into believing that Anakin Skywalker is dead, deep down I know it's a lie. One that among present company is becoming harder and harder to swallow.

Because the memories are still there. Following me. Haunting me. Replaying over and over on repeat. With each passing day a new one arises, gracing me with its unwelcome appearance. I was prepared to leave everything at Tatooine, to flee with my family and disappear into the expanse of the galaxy. To find some remote planet hidden in the Outer-rim and settle down to try and start over. Then Obi-wan had to show up, jerking me back into the jumbled up chaos of my own mind.

Then the rage took over.

Chosen One, Sith'ari, hero with no fear.

All names belonging to another. I don't know who I am anymore, or what I should or shouldn't be doing. Part of me wants to return to the palace, dropping submissively down before my master, ready to receive my punishment. The other part, the inner-segment slowly being bleached by light, is begging for me to run. To take what is mine and reconnect with the force.

"VADER!" Sabè yells from outside, suddenly banging on the blast door. "IF YOU HURT THOSE CHILDREN!"

The sound of her shrill shrieking grates on my nerves. I pull away from the crib and charge for the door, thrusting it open with the force. She stumbles back in shock, her brown eyes fierce with anger. So much like Padmè; the fire, the determination, the blatant disregard for her own life. For a fleeting moment I feel myself smiling, amused by her flagrant display of aggression. But it is only that ... fleeting.

"I tolerate your presence aboard my ship out of respect for my wife," I snarl, jabbing my finger in her face. I watch her swallow and take two guarded steps back. "I warn you, handmaiden, do _not_ test my patience."

She folds her arms defensively over her chest, her eyes locked dead on my lenses. "Or what? You'll kill me too? Like you killed the Queen and those innocent men at Naboo?"

Clenching my fists, I growl in response, taking a heaving step toward her. "Do you _really_ want me to answer that?" I hiss through my teeth.

Her fear spikes and the dragon inside me latches onto the emotion, gorging itself on the sensation. A brief image of her choking in the air flashes before my eyes and it takes every last skerrick of self control not to make it a reality. My hands are trembling, itching for permission, if only she realized how close she is to taking her final breath.

Sabè throws her arms wide, displaying herself as a target, egging me on to make good on my promise. "Go on then, _Vader._ Do it. Kill me. Then you can explain to Padmè why you suddenly decided to murder her most trusted servant and best friend. The person who held her while she cried night after night over you. Who cradled her in her arms after countless nightmares of her Jedi husband choking her. Do it. What are you waiting for?"

She may as well have thrown iced water over my head. The cold rolling shiver quaking through every taught muscle and cybernetic component. I am suddenly speechless, knowing exactly how Padmè would react. Weak. Threepio stumbles out from the kitchenette carrying the two bottles and freezes in place, staring at the two of us.

I can't take it anymore. Even wearing the mask I feel suffocated. With a flourish of my cape, I charge for the exit, barging through the blast door like a battering ram. I steamroll down the corridors heading in no particular direction, ignoring the plethora of petrified officers and crewmen scuttling out of my path.

Before I realize what I am doing, I find myself at the brig, opening one of the containment cells and storming inside, pacing back and forth like a crazed rancor. Over the thunder of my boots on the durasteel, I hear someone suddenly clear their throat.

"I see some things haven't changed."

I continue to pace, shaking my head, unable to respond to his goading. Why I made my way here, I have no idea. It was automatic, on instinct, as if for some ridiculous reason I was suddenly drawn to Kenobi. Familiarity perhaps? Or maybe deep down I knew I could take out my pent up frustrations on him, deflecting my attention to someone I could actually damage. A low growl rumbles from my chest, reverberating off the cell walls and echoing in the musty recycled air.

A strange, warm tickle brushes against the outskirts of my mind, searching, probing. Instantly, my jaw goes tight, my teeth grinding and scraping at the sensation. But I can't break from my rampage, continuing to pace, struggling to piece together the crumbling ruins of my thoughts.

"What is he doing?" a small feminine voice whispers in the distance.

The words barely register, I am so deafened by my sudden inability to focus. The force is twisting and turning, both light and dark sides warring for control. Mid-turn, I catch sight of Kenobi edging closer, his head cocked off to the side and his hands held in the air.

"Quiet Jaina," he whispers back, slowly creeping toward me.

I stop by the wall and whirl to face him, my chest heaving in and out and my respirator skipping out of rhythm. He stops too, keeping his hands in the air like he would trying to calm a wild beast, his grey eyes focused on my mask. We stand like this in silence for several minutes, neither of us knowing what the other is about to do.

" _Anakin?_ " he mutters, breaking the weighted silence.

Again my teeth grind. His voice is calm and subdued, edging on nervous. I can't bring myself to respond, unable to decide whether I want to grab him by the neck and repeatedly slam my fist into his face or sink to my knees at his feet. I hate him. I _loathe_ him. But that blasted holo Artoo played won't stop echoing in my head. Five insignificant words. Words that to a Sith should mean nothing.

"Obi-wan?" the padawan asks again.

That time I heard her. And so too did he, motioning to her for silence. My reaction is instant, my helmeted head swinging toward her; a sudden violent thrust of my hand sees her body catapulting across the cell with the force. Kenobi gasps in shock, watching her sail through the air and smashing into the far wall with a deafening crack.

I spare her a brief glance, noting the way her now motionless form is slumped over in the corner, then numbly turn back to stare at him. "I _hate_ you," I growl, clenching and unclenching my balled hands at my sides.

He holds my gaze, slowly bringing his arms up to rest at his chest. "Then why are you here?" he asks in his carefully guarded tone.

I start to pace once more, my cloak rippling behind as I thunder from side to side before him. His question annoys me, more because it's the very same one I am currently asking myself. Why did I come here? I don't even want him on my ship, let alone to be standing in the same room as him. "I don't know," I rumble back.

He goes quiet for a moment, and the warm tickling sensation returns. I know he is trying to get a feel for my motives, searching for the true purpose for my being here. Stopping in place, I whirl to face him. "Cease your probing."

Stroking his beard, he stares at me, waiting for me to say something. This whole situation is out of control and I am totally unprepared for it. I went to Tatooine to reclaim my family, with no intention of dragging my memory laden past baggage back with me. Somewhere along the way it all went wrong.

"If you came in here to talk Anakin, you are failing miserably."

"I didn't come here to talk."

"Then why _did_ you come here?"

My voice drops to a low rumble. "To think." I resume my patrol, slowly lumbering back and forth across the cell. I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move.

"I noticed the ship moved into hyperspace. May I ask where we are going?"

I stop and fold my arms, staring blankly at the wall. " _We_ are not going anywhere. _I_ am going to Korriban."

" _Korriban_?"

"Yes. Not that it is any business of yours."

"Does Padmè know this?"

A vice grips my chest. "No. She collapsed before I had the chance to tell her." He is still staring at me, but his expression is now one of understanding, as if my telling him about Padmè has somehow answered his question. "She is sick, and I didn't know what to do, so I summoned Aleria to look over her."

He shakes his head. "She isn't sick Anakin."

"What do you mean?" I hiss back, suddenly whirling around to face him. "Do you know something? Tell me what's wrong with her."

"I think you should go back and see for yourself. Then, once your fears are under control, perhaps _we_ can talk."

Kenobi turns away, walking over to the young blonde padawan lying in the corner, his shoulders hung low. She is starting to come to, softly groaning and shifting on the floor.

" _We_ have nothing to talk about."

Kneeling down beside her, he glances over his shoulder at me and sighs. "Can you at least send your doctor to come and check on Jaina? She didn't deserve your attack."

"I will think about it." Right now all I want to do is go back and talk to Padmè, providing Aleria has managed to wake her up.

• • •

Padmè sat staring in the air, barely aware of the redhead methodically packing her equipment into her bag.

"You're lucky to still have him," Aleria said, slowly drawing the zipper closed. "After what happened when you left, I thought we'd lost him for good."

"What do you mean?" Padmè asked, gently rubbing her stomach.

"Emperor Palpatine came to the tower, not long after Lord Vader returned. He punished him again. When I got to him he was smouldering and unconscious. It was really bad this time, I honestly didn't think he was going to survive."

"What happened?"

Aleria sat down on the bed beside Padmè, her green eyes distant. "I'm not sure exactly. I had to rebuild both of his legs and the lightning scorch marks were the worst I'd ever seen." The redhead wiped a tear from her eye. "They've had disagreements before but this ... this was different."

"He's been different since he came to Tatooine."

The doctor nodded. "Yes, he's back on the serum again. It's the same every time, only his dose is higher than what it first was at the palace. It keeps him on edge, hyper-alert. Celeste and I had specific instructions to dial-up the dosage after his last check-up."

Padmè looked down to her hands fumbling with the blanket on her stomach. Somehow none of this made her feel any easier. It was all her fault. If only she'd listened to him and waited.

"It's a good thing, My Lady," Aleria said, gently taking her hand. "Don't be afraid."

Tears welled in her eyes. She was afraid, terrified in fact. How was he going to react? The sound of his main chamber door opening made her heart leap into her throat. She looked pleadingly to the doctor as she got up from the bed. "Please stay Aleria," she whispered.

"It's alright, Lady Vader. If my calculations are correct, the medicator unit should be nearing empty by now. He'll be back to normal in an hour or so."

The thud of her husband's stride rapidly drew closer, announcing his impending return. She took a deep breath and stared nervously at the bed-chamber door, desperately trying to stay calm. The footsteps stopped, replaced by the unsteady hiss of his augmented breathing.

The door opened.

Vader's giant black armoured body filled the doorway, his masked head silently turning between the two women.

"Ani?" Padmè asked, sub-consciously wrapping her hands around her stomach.

"You're awake," he said flatly, folding his arms.

She nodded. He seemed distant and standoffish. She looked to Aleria for support but she was now standing in the corner with her eyes averted. A lump rose in her throat. "Can you come and sit down for a minute?" she asked, patting the bed. "I have something to tell you."

He stepped inside and turned to Aleria. "Doctor?"

"Yes My Lord?"

"Leave us."

"Actually Ani, I was hoping Aleria could stay for this," Padmè said, staring up at her husband pleadingly. "Just in case you have any questions."

He stared at her wordlessly for a moment and then nodded to the redhead, gesturing for her to take a seat in the recliner beside the port-window. Reaching the bed, he lifted his cape and sat down beside her. "Now, what is it you have to tell me?"

Padmè took a deep breath and sighed, reaching over to grasp his gloved hand. Searching his lenses for his eyes, she tried to find the right words to tell him the news. She couldn't, ultimately deciding to just blurt it out and hope for the best. "Ani, I'm ... I'm pregnant."

His respirator skipped. "What?" he choked.

She squeezed his hand tighter, feeling him start to pull back. "Aleria has done all of the tests. It's only early, but there is no doubt."

Vader pulled his hand away and dropped it to rest on his knee, slowly shaking his head. This wasn't what he needed right now. "How long have you known?" he growled.

"I only just found out," she whispered, reaching for him once more.

He stood from the bed and started to pace, shaking his head with his fists clenched tight. They already had two force-sensitive babies on his ship that needed to be shielded, how was he supposed to shield his wife as well? His Master would undoubtedly sense the shift in the force, of that he was certain.

"Anakin?" Padmè choked. "Please, say something."

He spun to face her. "What do you want me to say Padmè?" he asked, throwing both gloved hands into the air. He couldn't deal with this now, not with everything that was going on.

She started to sob, slumping down onto the bed and dropping her head into her hands.

"This is exactly what _he_ wanted. All that time he was plotting and planning for this and now it's happened."

"My Lord, if I could ..." Aleria said rising from her seat.

" _YOU_ , GET OUT! _NOW_!" he roared, stabbing his finger wildly at the door. The lights in the room started to flicker.

She didn't need to be told twice, grabbing her bag, the redhead quickly bolted from the room, not waiting to test his patience any further.

Vader continued to pace, while Padmè cried on the bed. "I can't believe this," he growled, thudding back and forth across the chamber. "When Palpatine realizes what's happened, he will come for us."

"Why?" she cried, her sodden hazel eyes staring up at him.

"Because he wants our child, Padmè. That's why he was so interested in our relationship. That's what all the tests were about."

She wiped her face, watching as he slowly turned to face her. "Is _that_ why you left the palace?"

"Yes. He was furious when you left, threatening to find you and lock you away. I lost it and attacked him, needless to say it didn't turn out the way I intended. I can't defeat him, Padmè. Not yet. He's too powerful, he almost killed me."

Padmè rose to her feet and crossed the room, gently grabbing his tense arms. She blinked through the tears and stared up at his mask. "Oh Ani, what are we going to do?"

"For now, we lay low. I have a plan, but I need more time to figure it all out. I can't risk him finding us Padmè, it won't end well ... for _either_ of us."

His comm-unit chirped, demanding his attention. He pulled back and turned away. "What is it Captain?" he rumbled, barely managing to conceal his emotions.

" _My Lord, we are coming up on Felucia. Awaiting co-ordinates for the final jump, Sir."_

"Very well Captain, ready the bridge. I will be there momentarily." Switching off his comm, he turned to Padmè and took her hands. "Please, go to the children and stay together. As soon as we reach Korriban, I will need to go to the surface. If for any reason you feel threatened ..." he hesitated and swallowed, his respirator skipping a beat. "I can't believe I am saying this, but ... I want you to go to Kenobi. He can ... he _will_ protect you."

"Are you sure?"

He looked away, gritting his teeth behind the mask. "Yes," he ground out, pulling his hand away and retrieving his former master's lightsaber from his belt. "Give him this. _If_ – and I mean _if – anything_ happens before I get back, he will need it."

Rubbing his thumbs across the back of her hands, he sighed and turned away, leaving his bed chamber for the bridge. Padmè swallowed and watched him leave, his luxurious midnight cloak billowing in the air behind him. Clutching the lightsaber in her hands, she ran from his quarters and down the long corridor, heading for the brig.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Sorry about the wait, I've been flat out with work and then got really sick. I hope you enjoy it and thank you for your patience.

MTFBWY


	36. Chapter 33: Radices Tenebrae

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

 _I am deeply sorry for the delays with these last few chapters. I am trying not to rush them as can so often be the case. This one is a double chapter, I went to split it but couldn't decide where to break. Thank you so much for your follows, favourites, reviews and kind comments they mean so so much to me._

 _Quick call out to_ _ **Sfloresf**_ _,_ _ **Guest**_ _and_ _ **RyuuShadow**_ _. Thank you for taking the time to review._

 _And mostly, Thank you all for your patience._

 _MTFBWY_ _ **.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 33: Radices Tenebrae**

STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER KORRIBAN

"And he told you to give it to me?" Obi-wan asked, holstering his lightsaber back on his belt.

Padmè stood by the port-window of the guest quarters, staring out at the three arrowhead star destroyers drifting before the rust coloured planet. Her hands lingered over her stomach, absently drawing circles over the yet to become noticeable bump. Releasing Obi-wan and Jaina from their cell might not have been what Anakin had intended when he handed her the lightsaber, but she needed the reassurance of having them close by. Especially now with him being so far away, with no guarantee of how long he would be gone for. His tone, with regard to his former mentor, she noted, had shifted slightly during their conversation. Sure, the anger and resentment toward him was ever prevalent, but the fact he had even considered returning the lightsaber had her curiosity peaked. Had something happened between the two of them while she was with the doctor?

"Yes. He said you might need it," she replied distantly.

"Curious." He walked up to stand beside her, placing his hand gently upon her shoulder. "I take it he knows of your ... _condition_ then?"

She shrugged out of his touch and turned to stare at him, one brow raised in question. "My _condition_?"

"The pregnancy, Padmè."

How did he know about that? She hadn't told him, she'd only just discovered the revelation herself and knew that Anakin hadn't said anything, he'd gone straight to the bridge after finding out. Turning back to the window, she sighed. He'd probably sensed it. Obi-wan always did have a knack for sticking his nose in where it wasn't welcome. But if he had sensed it, then why hadn't Anakin?

"Has he said why he is going to Korriban?" he asked.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes glued to the planet, waiting for his ship to appear. No, he hadn't told her, not that she'd ever asked. He always kept his missions closely guarded, never discussing them with her unless they directly involved her. Although, she wished he would, perhaps then she could shoulder some of the stress he seemed to be carrying constantly. "No, he doesn't tell me everything."

Walking up to stand alongside her, the Jedi leant onto the cladded wall and crossed his arms. Questions were hovering about him like a dust-storm, frantically darting left and right. He turned his eyes to the window and huffed. "You know, he came to see me earlier."

So he _had_ gone to see him. But for what reason? She doubted it was for a civil conversation, Anakin had made his intentions toward mending their broken relationship undoubtedly clear – he _had_ no intention. So much so, that he even refused to call him by his first name, continuously referring to him as Kenobi instead of Obi-wan. "Oh?"

The Jedi nodded. "Yes, he seemed confused. I don't think he was even aware of where he was until I spoke to him."

That wasn't surprising. No doubt after she'd fainted, he would've been in a state of panic, worrying about what was wrong with her. He never did handle worry very well, even now as a Sith. Actually, it was one of the few tell-tale signs that she clung to, a means of convincing herself that her Anakin _was_ still buried beneath all of the black armour and cybernetics. Hearing that he'd automatically gone to Kenobi in that state of unrest just helped to add more fuel to the fire. Perhaps there was a glimmer of hope for bridging the gaping chasm between them after all. "Did he say anything?"

"Not really, but he did throw Jaina into a wall when he eventually became aware of her presence. I don't think he wanted her witnessing him in that state."

"No I don't suppose he would have." A small black Actis-class Interceptor departed the ship, its bright blue thrusters gleaming at the tail. The cerulean beams intensified leaving a glowing trail in its wake, as her husband's lone fighter plunged between the neighbouring ships and shot toward the planet's murky atmosphere. Padmè sucked in a small sob and gently lifted her hand to press on the glass.

Obi-wan turned to look at her, no doubt seeing the building tears forming in her eyes. He paused for a moment then took a deep breath and dropped his gaze to the floor. "I never wanted to hurt him, Padmè," he whispered. "But when I saw him choking _you_ on Mustafar, I knew I was already too late. Anakin was gone."

"But he's _not_ gone Obi-wan," she said, folding her arms indignantly over her chest. "I don't know why you can't see that. I would've thought that you, of all people, would be able to sense the light still hiding inside him." Even she could feel it, not in the same way obviously, but it _was_ there. Back at the palace, she'd seen it, the way he looked at her as if nothing else in the entire galaxy even existed. The way his crystal blue eyes shone down on her after their intimate exchanges. How he spoke to her so softly, so lovingly when he woke her back at 500 Republica, briefly making her forget everything that had transpired in the past.

He was so close, she had seen more and more of the Anakin that she'd fallen in love with and less of the dark sided tyrant that Palpatine had moulded him into. She was beginning to regret ever leaving with Bail, Ferus and Caleb. Sure, they now had Luke and Leia, but at what cost? Anakin had retreated back into the shadows of the dark side and Obi-wan and Jaina were now imprisoned upon his ship. Their lives hanging in the balance, precariously hinged on her husband's emotional state.

"I sensed his conflict when he came into the cell, yes, but I highly doubt that it's strong enough."

She started to pace the living space. If Obi-wan wasn't willing to even try to reach Anakin then he was as good as dead. There was only so long she could protect him for and it was even harder still considering she could understand the reasons behind it. Because of him, his body was irreparably broken and scarred, leaving behind a meagre pain-filled shadow of the man he once was. She spun to face him. "So you can sense his conflict, yet are unwilling to try talking with him?" she asked, propping her hands on her hips.

The Jedi shook his head and dragged his hand roughly through his hair. "There's no point Padmè, when he returns from Korriban it won't be there. That planet was once the homeworld of the Sith, it is enshrouded by darkness. Even Master Yoda was affected by its toxicity when he went there."

"And if he isn't as affected? If the good you sensed in him still exists?" she asked, trying to stay calm. "Will you at least _try_?"

The Jedi didn't answer, he just stood silently stroking his beard, his grey eyes fixed upon hers and his lips pulled tight. It wasn't an instant refusal, so at the very least he was possibly considering her request. She folded her arms and stared him down, mentally willing him to concede. He opened his mouth to speak when the door behind them suddenly opened.

"The twins are awake My Lady," Sabè announced walking into the sitting area with Leia in her arms.

Jaina emerged behind her with Luke, closely followed by Threepio. Padmè gazed around them, her eyes searching for the little Astromech. "Where is Artoo?" she asked.

Threepio stepped forward. "I'm afraid my counterpart left the suite shortly before you returned, Miss Padmè. It appeared as though he had received orders to report to the ship's main hangar, immediately."

Padmè and Obi-wan instantly looked to each other. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. Anakin had never gone anywhere without Artoo and now that the little droid was back with him, it seemed as though that previous habit was suddenly making a comeback. "He made sure to take Artoo, Obi-wan. Do you believe me now?" she snapped.

He shook his head and turned to face the window, his shoulders lifting and falling with the heaving sigh he expelled. One thing was for certain, if the two of them _were_ going to try and mend their broken relationship, the road was going to be a very long and trying one indeed. One that she desperately hoped would see the survival of both of them.

* * *

 _KORRIBAN_

Vader sat in the cockpit of his Interceptor as it hovered above the sand, staring out at the barren landscape surrounding him. Every visualizer mode coded within his mask showed the same image – _desertion_. No trees, no signs of life, very much like the dreaded canyons back on Tatooine, only burnt. Ancient ruins and decaying structures lay crumbling amongst the jagged rocky outcroppings, piercing the landscape at unnatural angles.

"Artoo, scan for life-forms."

The droid twittered an affirmative from his spot on the black wing, his chirps relaying through the audio sensors in Vader's helmet. His suit's onboard computer translated the signals, displaying the message across both crimson lenses. Not that he needed it to be decoded, he had always understood exactly what the little Astromech said without requiring assistance. A useful skill that the now Sith had taken with him from his jaded past life.

" _Life-form scan complete. Results: zero within range. All clear Master."_

"As I expected," Vader remarked, flicking several switches and shifting the fighter's controls to manual. "I'm going to take us in for a closer look." He took the yoke in both gloved hands and gave the rear thrusters a gentle push. The single-man ship edged forward, displacing plumes of the scorched sienna dirt high into the air.

" _Scanners indicate terrain is comprised of up to 80% sand, Master. The other 20%: unknown."_

Vader groaned, tightening his grip on the handle. "Also, as I had expected. Though less impressive than your previous scan." The undulating landscape morphed around them as they travelled further toward the mouth of the narrowing canyon. The burnt sand stretched and rose either side, forming into two definite peaks that glistened in the red-orange glow of the bloodied sky.

This was what he expected, not identical in nature, but similar to that of what he'd seen in the visions. As the distance between valley and cliff increased, he knew they were getting closer. Towering statues closed in around them, their long shadows merging with that of the surrounding cliff-face. Another hundred meters and Vader pulled the ship to a stop, just short of the temple foreground.

"Let's put her down here, Artoo. This should be close enough."

Artoo chirped in agreeance.

The repulsors guided the fighter down to rest on its landing struts and Vader disengaged the main thrusters. He keyed the hatch release and waited. The instant the blast shield lifted, he felt it – the pull of the dark side of the force. It was calling to him, beckoning him to answer it. The sound of Artoo's securing clamps springing open tore him from his thoughts, dragging his senses back into the cockpit. He unbuckled the flight harness and lumbered out of his seat, his boots sinking into the sand as he dropped down.

Angry winds swirled from all around, disturbing the sand and churning it into thick murky clouds that twisted and rolled in the air. The torrent rippled his cloak, dragging it into the surrounding grain-filled swell. Artoo twittered from the frontal wing tips of the fighter, his glowing blue photoreceptor penetrating the hazy sand mass.

Vader stared at the looming temple. It looked considerably larger than what it had in his visions. From the ground, the opposing cliff-face rose so high that it obscured the distant sun, the ancient walls and main entrance carved and embedded into the rock itself. Stone statues lined the path to its entrance, each one remarkably similar, yet different; their hooded heads bent forward and their hands steepled together in prayer. An icy chill swept through his veins.

The power he'd felt in the visions was but a bare echo compared to the overwhelming pulse he was now experiencing. It was as if gravity itself had suddenly amplified, clamping around his charred lungs and turning his cybernetic legs to stone like the very idols perched around him. The candle within flickered from the immense pressure, its fragile flame slowly suffocating under the oppressing weight of the dark side's malevolence.

Artoo whistled a fretful whimper, rolling up alongside the Dark Lord's boot. Vader gazed down at his loyal companion. He touched his hand to his utility belt then to the hilt of his lightsaber. Reassured that both holocron and weapon were still firmly attached, he made a start for the temple. "Come Artoo," he rumbled, waving the little astromech forward.

The violent gusts intensified as they drew closer, trudging in-between the assembled statues. Vader gritted his teeth behind the mask. His eyes guardedly drifting left and right, his senses on high alert and his body tensed, ready to strike. Unlike his visions, Malgus was not waiting for him in the shadows and it was eerily quiet and deserted. Every so often a distant voice whispered on the air, drifting around him, escalating his sudden dislike for the situation. The raspy echo became clearer the closer they got to the entrance.

" _Sky – walk – er."_

He stopped abruptly between the last pair of idols, hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his lightsaber.

Another gale force wind blustered from within the black hole temple door, almost knocking him flat. The voice, enshrouded by a hissing veil of black smoke, whipped around him. The vaporous serpent snaked and swirled at his boots, wrapped up around both shin-plates then shot straight up over his chest; heading for his mask. Before he could move, it breached the security of his armour, the surreptitious ramblings seeping deep into the claustrophobic confines of his helmet. Heart pounding, he slammed both hands to his head and violently shook it side to side. He had no idea what this _smoke-thing_ was, but was absolutely certain he didn't want its company inside his suit.

" _We have been waiting for you ... Sky – walk – er,"_ the haunting voice whispered from alongside his ear.

He wanted to respond – to demand the serpent's identity and purpose – but was reluctant to open his mouth. Accidentally breathing in ghostly smoke creatures was not particularly high on his to-do list. Squeezing his eyes shut, he drew on the force to try and dislodge it.

The smoke cackled, the unnerving snicker rebounding inside his prison. _"Follow me,"_ it hissed. _"We grow tired of waiting."_

Feeling the shift, he opened his eyes to see the serpent regaining its eel-like form at the temple opening. The ethereal head turned his direction before slowly slithering away.

" _I've got a bad feeling about this,_ " Artoo whistled nervously beside him.

Vader gazed down at the astromech and affectionately tapped his domed head. "So do I, my old friend," he rumbled, turning his eyes back to the temple. "So do I." He heaved in a raspy breath, ignited his lightsaber and stood tall, mentally preparing himself for whatever unknown surprises lay waiting for them inside. The hum of the red blade hung on the now stagnant air, its insidious crimson aura illuminating the way. "Come on Artoo, as the smoke-snake said; they are waiting."

With a twitter, the little droid reluctantly rolled forward, obediently following his master into the darkness.

The smoke serpent slinked ahead, guiding the Dark Lord and his astromech deeper into the catacombs. Shadows lingered on the decrepit walls, ducking and diving for cover behind pillars and crumbling decorative podiums. The sudden sharp and unexpected movements drawing the Dark Lord's attention. Something hard crunched beneath his boot. A piece of stone, sculpted by appearance, though its intended representation was now as mysterious as the remainder of the corridors. He kicked it aside and continued onward, paying marginally more attention to his immediate surroundings.

Artefacts lay discarded in ruin on the floor; shattered ceremonial urns, decaying carved busts with pieces sheared off; all striking evidence of the once grandiose pantheon's subversive history. Battle scars, much like his own. Shattered, broken, damaged beyond repair. He was more like this temple than anything else.

And just like the temple – he too was still standing.

The corridor opened up, giving way to a cavernous burial chamber. Two massive statues stood up ahead, knees bent and arms extended above their heads, as if holding up the lofty vaulted ceiling. At their feet sat a long rectangular stone crypt, complete with hieroglyphs and ornate carvings. Its size was measurable, similar in length to that of his Interceptor parked outside.

Vader and Artoo pulled to a stop, silently waiting for the serpent to direct them. They didn't need to wait long, with an unnatural twist of its ethereal body, the vaporous head turned to them, brandishing a pair of burning red eyes.

" _This ... way,"_ it hissed, snapping back around and vanishing into the base of the crypt.

Artoo whistled and chirped, agitatedly rocking left and right.

"How am I supposed to know?" Vader grumbled, shrugging his shoulders and staring straight ahead. "This wasn't _in_ my vision."

"Wooo-rooh."

With a sigh he stepped forward, wondering how they were supposed to follow the insufferable smoke-eel through solid stone. Two meters before they reached the crypt a blaze of red-orange fire poured up into the air, morphing into some hideous ghost-like apparition that grew to encompass the full height of the chamber. Glowing embers swirled and joined in the mass until finally fusing together into what resembled an armoured face and body.

Vader widened his stance and tightened his grip on his saber, holding it out before him with both hands. A haughty laugh roared from the ghost and it bent forward, two flaming yellow eyes glaring straight at him. Form completely solidified, the young Sith now realized just whose tomb he was standing in front of.

Scarlet smoke swirling, the apparition rose up, dwarfing the sarcophagus below. "Why have you come to my tomb ... _Jedi?_ " its deep gravelly voice bellowed.

Not shifting his stance, Vader held his ground, not intimidated by the dead Sith hovering before him. "I am _no_ Jedi," he snarled in disgust.

The ghost snickered, lunging forward and drifting around his head. "No? Are you sure about that?" it sneered, staring into the very depths of his lenses, the glowing embers in its ethereal face sparking.

Vader stared straight back, tightening his grip even more.

"Hah! We shall see." The ghost pulled back, returning to its place above the crypt. A sudden wave of energy pulsed forward, extinguishing the lightsaber in his hand.

Gritting his teeth, Vader glanced down at his deactivated weapon then holstered it back on his belt. It was obviously of no use to him here.

"Do you know who I am _?_ " it demanded, twirling in the air with its arms extended. "Whose tomb stands before you?"

"Yes," Vader growled back, folding his arms. "Darth Bane. Creator of the 'Rule of Two'."

Bane's ghost jerked and twisted in the air. "Sowhat brings you here?" he demanded. "Knowledge? Power? Precious Jewels? All of which I have in abundance."

"I was summoned here," Vader snarled, charging forward. "And _you_ are in my way." With a wave of his gloved hand, he dismissed Bane's ghost, uninterested in wasting any more time. He had been brought here for a reason and right now _that_ was all he cared about. Too much time had been spent lingering and waiting. Who knew how long he had before his master would come looking for him. Days? Weeks? For all he knew he could be on his way right now, his Corvette screaming through hyperspace, descending on the Exactor at any moment. He clenched his fist at the thought.

"Hah! Foolish _Jedi!_ " Bane roared, slowly shrinking in size by the lid of his tomb. "Lies and deceit are the ways of the Sith, but you ... _you_ are deceiving _YOURSELF!_ " His ghost dematerialized, disappearing back under the massive stone lid of the sarcophagus.

Vader stopped at the foot of the crypt with Artoo hot on his heels. As the tomb vibrated and shook, it slowly edged back toward the two giant kneeling statues, revealing a dark, dingy stairwell. He looked back to Artoo, checking to see he was still behind him then started forward.

Trudging down the stairs, he couldn't shake Bane's insistence from his mind. Deceiving himself? What exactly had he meant by that? There was no doubt in his mind that he was now aligned with the dark side. He could feel its strength rippling through his body with every augmented breath. He didn't fear it, didn't shirk from its ice-cold clutches. No. Instead, he embraced it, absorbing the energy and allowing it to consume him. What could a ghost know anyway? They're dead. It's not like Bane could see into the darkest depths of his core.

Could he?

So lost in his thoughts he didn't realize they had reached yet another chamber. The smoke snake was back, hovering in front of another massive wall. It made him wonder just how big the temple was, as it seemed to go on forever. Artoo rolled to a stop beside him, and both him and the droid stared at the monstrosity before them. It wasn't _just_ a wall. The ancient Sith seemed to have an affinity for stone carvings and statues. This one resembled some type of armoured skull with two oval hole windows for eyes and a gaping triangular doorway for its mouth.

Vader thought back to his visions, trying to place the door in his memory. Snippets of broken conversations and blurry images flourished in his mind until finally, he remembered it.

" _This is the sacrificial chamber," Malgus had said._

"The sacrificial chamber," he muttered out loud, deep in thought.

"Yes. And this is where my escort ends," the smoke-snake hissed, rising from the floor as if moving to stand. "They are waiting inside."

Of course they are, he thought darkly.

The vaporous serpent swirled in the air and evaporated, leaving him and Artoo waiting at the door. This was it, the place Malgus had told him to bring the holocron to. Gritting his teeth, he withdrew his lightsaber and ignited it. "Come on Artoo," he growled, striding for the doorway, "let's do this."

The droid whistled sadly as it followed the Dark Lord through the skull wall and into the shadows, trailing just behind his rippling cape.

* * *

CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE: EMPEROR'S THRONE ROOM

Darth Sidious loomed by the sweeping window, hands hung like claws at his waist. Three figures flickered above the holo-projector – Admirals of the Imperial Navy – all dressed in tight fitted Naval tunics. The search to locate his missing Apprentice had begun. Star Destroyers were now scouring the galaxy, hunting the elusive Exactor and her three accompanying vessels.

Although the exact details surrounding his motives for locating Darth Vader were kept to himself, the Admirals were completely aware of the urgency of their operation. For days he had tried to connect with the confused young Sith, reaching out to him through the force, each time to uncover nothing.

" _My Lord, my men aboard the Vanquish are currently searching all frequencies near Correllia for any trace of the Exactor, but so far we've come up empty handed,"_ one of the Admirals explained.

" _Is it possible they could be somewhere in Wild Space, My Lord?"_ the second Admiral enquired. _"That could at least explain our inability to locate their tracking signals."_

Sidious scowled at them, his face overshadowed by the cowl of his robe. He was surrounded by incompetence. No wonder so many found themselves on the receiving end of Vader's fury, if this was what he was dealing with constantly. "I care not for your guesses, gentlemen. Time is of the essence. Now return to your stations and find that ship!"

" _Right away My Lord,"_ the men chorused.

With a snarl he waved his hand and deactivated the transmission. He turned back to the window and folded his arms, staring blindly at the jostling traffic outside.

Vader's disappearance was both highly concerning and inconvenient. He was still so confused with his transition, battling to adjust to his new physical state and life-support suit. Even more-so with the reappearance of his _beloved_ wife.

Time was now his enemy. He needed Vader here, where he could personally oversee and ensure his continued transition to the dark side. Too much time spent apart could give him hope – hope of escape – and _hope_ was dangerous. Not to mention, inconvenient.

Finding a new apprentice would undoubtedly prove a challenge, especially with the severely diminished number of force-wielders since the purge. And the likelihood of finding one as potent and naturally gifted in the force as Vader, would be nigh on impossible.

Vader was _his_. His prize for the many years spent fastidiously manipulating and orchestrating the Clone War and subsequent destruction of the Jedi. And when he returned, he would remind him of that.

* * *

KORRIBAN: SACRIFICIAL CHAMBER

This whole mission was beginning to feel like a wild bantha chase. So far he'd found nothing of importance, chasing down ghosts and wandering aimlessly through the haunted temple corridors. All for what? To reach yet another seemingly abandoned chamber?

He had expected to see Malgus by now, or at least some indication as to his whereabouts. But once again, the sacrificial chamber was deserted. Nothing but crumbling rock and decaying walls.

Vader huffed and stared at his disturbing surroundings. Eleven more statues were assembled in a chrono-face arrangement, with a vacant space where the first hour should be. At the centre were four upright pillars, where he guessed the ill-fated Jedi were originally restrained before their execution.

It was oddly _unsettling._

"Now what?" he asked, turning to Artoo as he rolled up alongside him.

The droid twittered a despondent reply, clearly as confused and frustrated by the whole expedition as he was.

"Malgus told me to bring the holocron here," Vader mused, reaching into his belt and pulling out the small pyramidal device. He went to open it when it suddenly shot from his grip, flying through the air and levitating high above the centre of the pillars. "What the?" he rasped.

The ground beneath them shook, disturbing the centuries old dust from its resting places. The holocron started to spin, faster and faster, until it was little more than a rotating blur. It cracked open, spewing red lightning high into the air and out to the surrounding statues. The chamber was suddenly a hive of electrical activity, buzzing and crackling from every corner, the iridescent glow almost blinding. Vader lifted his hand to shield his eyes, straining to see what was happening.

Bursts of angry red fire exploded from the floor, one in front of every statue. Behind the pillars, a black figure emerged from the shadows. It stepped forward to the centre, raising one arm and gesturing toward him.

"Malgus?" Vader growled, taking a hesitant step forward.

"Welcome to Korriban Lord Vader," Malgus greeted, moving further into the circle. "Come, join me."

Grinding his teeth, he turned to Artoo. "Wait here."

"Oooooh – rooooh," the astromech whistled.

Vader stepped between the assembled statues and flames and up onto the central platform, just short of the four restraining pillars. A dark energy was swarming around him, pulling him closer. He started to fight it, pressing back with the force. Glaring at Malgus, he tried to ground his footing, resisting the pull.

A slight wave of the Sith ghost's hand saw him suddenly dragged between the four pillars. He was powerless to stop it, completely blindsided by the action. A rumbling snarl rattled from his chest as four blinding streaks of blue light ripped from the posts and wrapped around him – one shackling each wrist and foot. Vader yanked and tugged on the restraints, fighting to free himself. "Malgus, what is the meaning of this?" he roared, continuing to struggle. "Release me at once!"

"Patience Lord Vader, allow me to explain."

Malgus started to circle him, his respirator hissing in sync with his own and his cloak drifting behind him. "I have brought you here because I need to show you the reality of our situation," he started. "And to see if you have what it takes to do what needs to be done."

"I don't follow," Vader snarled, tugging on his bonds and carefully watching the surreal Sith ghost move around him.

"You see Vader, I was awakened by your Master's former Master, Darth Plagueis."

"Plagueis is dead. Sidious killed him in his sleep."

"Yes," Malgus snickered, "but his essence is trapped with his remains in one of the ceremonial urns in your Master's throne room." He stopped walking once he reached his original position, folding his arms over his armoured chest. "I believe you may have seen them. Quite tall and elegant, disguised as art pieces."

He stopped struggling coming to the realization that he was – for all intents and purposes – completely trapped. A brief uncomfortable memory flashed before his eyes. There were two ornamental urns in the throne room. Come to think of it, they were also in his office back when he was serving as the Chancellor – they used to take pride of place, one positioned either side of the main entrance. "What does this have to do with me?" Vader hissed.

"The continued existence of the Sith relies upon the passing down of knowledge and skills from Master to Apprentice. One to embody the power and the other to crave it. Over the centuries, whilst this tradition has proven successful in prolonging our survival, our overall strength is waning," the Sith ghost explained.

Malgus grew agitated, pacing back and forth. "For years since the destruction of the Sith Empire, surviving members have been obsessed with the Jedi. Consumed by their undying thirst for revenge. But they, like your Master, Darth Sidious, all failed to see the bigger picture."

Vader yanked on his restraints once more, but still they refused to give. He glared at Malgus, standing just out from the pillars, watching the plumes of scarlet fire burning around them. "Get to the point," he growled, squeezing his fists tight.

"The point is, that it is time for us to rise up from the ashes. To denounce Bane's archaic Rule of Two and forcefully reinstate the Sith Empire, taking absolute control of the galaxy once and for all."

It was difficult to concentrate with all of the noise in the background – the roar and crackle of the eleven balls of fire, the steady high pitched whine of the force-energy beam binders and the constant whispering voices chattering on the electrified air. Even the persistent hiss of his respirator seemed oddly dulled in comparison. He pulled on his shackles and growled in frustration.

Bar the revelation that it was indeed Plagueis that brought Malgus to him, the rest of what he was saying was old news. What he couldn't fathom was, what this all had to do with him being chained up and restrained as if facing impending execution. He tried to think through it, tried to rationalize his situation, but as usual his emotions were getting carried away; unable to shake Darth Bane's previous accusatory statement. Heart pounding and hands clenching and unclenching in the binders, Vader trained his hidden eyes on the ghost. "An interesting concept Malgus," he snarled sardonically. "But I fail to see how it relates to me being shackled to a post like some Jedi on death row."

"Ah yes," the ethereal Sith replied, sweeping his glowing amber eyes left and right to the flames. "But you _were in-fact_ a Jedi, weren't you?" The burning balls surged with the statement, their radiating heat barrelling through the charged air.

"Yes, although I-" Vader started. He had a gut churning, stomach wrenching, _very_ bad feeling about this.

"And not just _any_ Jedi," Malgus interjected, whirling on his heel in a sudden snap, pointing his gloved finger. "But the _Chosen One_? The very one _prophesised_ by the Jedi to bring balance to the force? _Correct_?"

What had he gotten himself into? Was this some type of elaborate set up? Had he truly failed his Master so profoundly that he had now earned his death? Or was it Plagueis that had decided to orchestrate his demise as a final stab to his deceitful former apprentice? Panic quickly set in, rising in his chest until it formed a large solid lump in his throat. He tried to call on the force, tried to pull it to him, but the energy binders were blocking his connection. "So what?" he demanded, thrusting his upper body forward and wrenching his full weight against the restraints. "You brought me all the way here just to kill me? WHY?"

Malgus shook his head dismissively. "No, not to kill you," he stated cryptically. "To assess you. To cleanse you. To determine whether you truly are, who _they_ believe you to be." He spread both arms wide and gestured to the assembled bodies of fire. Suddenly each one had a pair of haunting, glowing yellow eyes. Soulless and empty. All boring into and through him. Gnarled, twisted hands formed, growing out from the fires on long spindly arms. "Now, shall we begin?" he asked, taking a heaving step out of the circle.

Vader swept his glare across the flaming apparitions as they closed in around him, their ashen clawed hands stretching ever closer. With a reluctant grunt he lifted his head high and braced himself. "So be it," he snarled.

The eleven spectres immediately descended upon him, their talon like fingers plunging viciously into his torso. It burned hotter than the lava on Mustafar, tearing through his insides like force lightning – if the lightning had been amplified by over one hundred times. Instantly he let out a blood-curdling scream, crackling through the vocoder and booming off the ancient chamber walls. His head lurched back, his eyes fixed on the still spinning holocron hovering overhead. A white hot surge ripped through his body, stealing the air from his ravaged lungs and the blood from his veins. Suddenly, two dazzling red beams of energy streamed out from his lenses, shooting up from the circle and into the holocron, uniting his force-energy with the malevolently enchanted device. Seconds later, no longer able to withstand the torture, he blacked out.

• • •

Darth Malgus paced back and forth before the interrogation, growing more and more impatient by the moment. Vader had gone completely silent after his violent cry and was now supported purely by the binders securely fastened around his limbs. The eleven elementals surrounded him, chanting and humming in their ancient Sith tongue.

He stopped pacing and spun to face the dead Lords, folding his arms over his chest. "Well?" he demanded in the same tongue.

One of the apparitions pulled its head back from the group, meeting the former warrior's expectant stare. It remained chillingly silent.

The spectre dove back in on the offensive, its fiery head merging with those of the other ten ghosts until they resembled a raging bonfire enveloping their victim. Diving deep into the comatose Sith's core, its fingers resumed their position, pulsing and probing at a white and blue ball of light deeply embedded within the darkness. Every attack was repelled, every sharp stab, deflected. Nothing could crush it, not even all of their power combined. With one final push, the white-blue energy retaliated, forcing them all out from their exploration.

A spine-chilling howl screeched from the flames as one by one the elementals retreated, shrieking and swirling away to their statues. Instantly the red beams vanished and Vader's helmeted head slumped forward to his chest. He hung lifelessly from the binders, completely unconscious.

"He is shielding it!" one of the flaming apparitions roared. "His defences are impenetrable!"

"Another Revan," one of the others sneered.

Malgus stormed up onto the platform and clenched his fists. "You _dare_ say that as an _insult,_ Nihilus?!"

"He _was_ an insult! A scourge, a plague, a wound to the Sith Empire!" Nihilus argued, his ethereal body surging in fury, his ghostly white half mask with gaping black hole eyes suddenly manifesting in the flames. "Once a traitor, forever a traitor. This sack of metal and meat is no different."

"And the rest of you?" Malgus demanded, turning in place to look on the ancients one by one.

At the twelfth hour position, a ghostly white face manifested in the flames. Red turned to black around her face, her long floating black hair dancing on the heat updraft. He recognized her immediately, one of the originals, the respected and feared XoXaan. The remaining ten elementals fell silent, their glowing eyes fixed upon her transcendary form.

"Silence Nihilus," she ordered, waving her translucent arm dismissively. "Plagueis unknowingly created this being brought before us. He, like yourself, is a force-wound. Powerful and naturally drawn to the dark." She stared at Malgus, her piercing amber eyes burning intensely. "You will guide him, Lord Malgus. Shepherd him to Dromund Kaas to reform and train the army. He has great potential and if _handled_ correctly I have no doubt will lead us to victory."

"Yes, your highness," Malgus affirmed with a bow. He moved to exit the circle, stepping down from the platform and preparing to attach his energy to the holocron.

"Be warned, Malgus," XoXaan hissed, as she and her ten summoned companions started to dissolve. "The very nature of the force is to achieve balance and _he_ was the weapon sent forth to deliver it. If you fail in this, be assured, Darth Vader _will_ bring about the destruction of the Sith, just as he and Sidious did with the Jedi."

"Understood, Master."

The flames circled the restrained and unconscious Sith before vanishing into the darkness. The holocron slowed its spin and pulled the ghostly Malgus into its pyramidal walls, securing him safely inside. As soon as the rotations stopped, the blue energy beams extinguished releasing the still unconscious Vader from his restraints. His armoured body crashed face first to the floor, landing on the ancient sacrificial platform with a thud.

The holocron silently fell from the air, tinkling around on the stone until it finally came to rest by his right hand.

Rolling out from the shadows, Artoo softly whistled to his still Master. Unbeknownst to the ancient Sith ghosts, he had been covertly recording the event from the safety of a heavily shadowed plinth by the chamber entrance. He nudged his master's left hand with one of his treads, but the unconscious Dark Lord didn't respond. Sweeping his photoreceptor around the chamber, the astromech scanned for signs of danger.

And like before, the sacrificial chamber was once again deserted.

* * *

STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER KORRIBAN

"Something is wrong Obi-wan," Padmè protested, marching back and forth by the port window. "It's been hours and I still haven't heard from him." She couldn't stand not knowing what was happening, especially with how Anakin had reacted to the news of her pregnancy.

"I am sure he is fine, Padmè," Obi-wan groaned, watching both Luke and Leia crawl around on the floor. "But I do wish that you'd reconsider leaving him. We could easily take one of the shuttles and disappear before he returns."

She spun to stare at him, her expression taught with anger. "No. I won't leave him. It's not up for discussion."

"He's only trying to protect Luke and Leia, Padmè," Sabè contested, folding her arms in the passage doorway. "You are being unreasonable. Vader is not fit to be a father, and besides, is this really the kind of life you want for your children?"

" _Unreasonable_?" Padmè snapped. "They are Anakin's children too, Sabè! He has every right to be with them!"

"But _he_ isn't Anakin anymore!" Sabè argued, moving to the side to let Jaina and Threepio enter the room. "Obi-wan told you this and still you insist on hanging on. What is it going to take for you to believe him?"

Obi-wan sighed and slumped forward, resting his head in his hands in defeat. "It's no use Sabè, just let it go," he muttered.

"I hate to break up this delightful conversation," Jaina interrupted, standing with the golden protocol droid in the middle of the room. "But Threepio has just received a message from Artoo."

"What is it? What's the message Threepio?" Padmè demanded, her heart leaping into her throat. Now she was scared. If Artoo was contacting them, it could mean only one of two things – either something terrible had happened, or Anakin was suddenly missing.

Threepio nervously glanced to his enraged Mistress. "Artoo says we must go down to the temple at once. He said, that Master Vader is in serious trouble and is in need of our help."

"I knew it!" Padmè cried. "I just knew it!" Not waiting for a response from the two Jedi and her handmaiden, she quickly pushed passed Sabè and ran into the bedchamber. Even as a Sith Lord her husband seemed to attract trouble, another thing he appeared to have in common with his past. She disappeared into the closet and started to strip down. Pulling on a pair of black leggings and shrugging into a fitted black tunic, she prepared to go down and retrieve him. She grabbed her blaster holster and strapped it to her thigh, then snatched up her boots and ran for the bed.

"What are you doing?" Obi-wan asked from the doorway.

"I'm going to bring him back," she snapped, yanking her boot up over her foot.

He cocked his brow. "All by yourself?"

She shot him a cold glare as she pulled the zipper up on her other boot and jumped to her feet. "No, I'm taking Commander Appo and his troopers down with me."

"I don't like this, Padmè. It's too risky."

She shook her head and grabbed her robe from the hanger. "Of course you don't, you never do," she said, marching over to him blocking the door. "And unless you intend on coming with me, you can get out of my way." She lifted her wrist-comm and contacted the Trooper, pushing passed Obi-wan and heading for the sitting room.

" _Yes, Lady Vader?_ " his voice echoed.

"Commander Appo, assemble your best men and meet me in the hangar. My husband needs an immediate evac."

" _My Lady, Lord Vader ordered you to be kept on the Exactor. I can't permit you to leave."_

She gritted her teeth. "We don't have time to discuss this Commander. Your Supreme Commander's life could very well be at stake. Now do as I ask and I will meet you there."

" _Right away, Lady Vader. Appo out."_

• • •

"We have a lock on Lord Vader's Star-fighter. Coming into range in 30 seconds," the co-pilot announced to his passengers.

Padmè sat staring at her fingers, hoping that by the time they reached Anakin, they wouldn't be too late. The shuttle suddenly lurched to the side, pushing her into Obi-wan seated beside her.

"It will be alright," he said, helping her to sit back up.

"I hope so," she whispered. She stared back at him briefly before turning her eyes to their travelling companions all holding their blasters. Appo's helmet and weapon were both firmly planted on Obi-wan, no doubt not trusting the Jedi in the least.

"Coming up on the fighter now, commencing flyby," the co-pilot announced.

The shuttle slowed its approach and Padmè scrambled to see out the window. There it was, the repainted black Interceptor with the silver Imperial logo plastered on its wings. "That's it!" she cried.

"Shall we continue on to the temple, Commander?" the co-pilot asked.

"Yes," Appo confirmed. "Our intel informs us that Lord Vader is still inside and requiring extraction."

"Right away, next stop, Valley of the Dead."

The stark white shuttle lifted its wings and touched down, just inside of the temple burial ground. Commander Appo ordered his men to file out, himself staying behind to escort Padmè. He held his armoured white hand out to help her up from the seat, asserting himself between her and Obi-wan.

"Lady Vader, allow me," Appo said with a respectful nod.

"Thank you Commander," Padmè said in her regal tone, allowing him to assist her.

The two of them followed his troops from the shuttle and down the ramp, leaving Obi-wan and Jaina surprisingly unsupervised.

"I get the feeling the Commander doesn't much appreciate our company," Jaina muttered, following the older Jedi.

"Whatever gave you _that_ idea?" Obi-wan replied sarcastically, making his way for the exit. Reaching the ramp, he stopped and stared at the desolate burnt landscape, suddenly knocked back by the malevolent energy surging from the temple ahead.

Jaina moved alongside him and pulled the hood of her robe up. "Not exactly welcoming, is it?" she mused.

"Not particularly," he muttered, watching the amassed group of clone troopers move into position. Another two joined them guiding a large medical capsule. Padmè appeared to be discussing her plans with the Commander, her hands pointing to the temple entrance and then back to the shuttle.

"Hey, you two," Commander Appo called from beside her. "Jedi up front, where I can see you."

Obi-wan turned his stormy grey eyes to Jaina trying to mask his growing concern. "Whatever you do, stay close to me. The dark side is strong here. Who knows what we're walking into."

Joining the rescue party, the two Jedi ignited their lightsabers and lead the way into the Sith Temple with Padmè and Commander Appo between them, closely followed by the rest of the troopers.

Artoo stayed by his Master's side, every so often nudging his hand or leg with his treads. He scanned his body for vitals every few minutes, monitoring the Dark Lord's heart beat. Rolling forward to nudge him again, he knocked the small holocron near his fingers.

He let out a chirp. Engaging his retractable grappling arm, he snatched the device up from the floor and stuffed it inside his storage compartment. Whatever this thing was, he knew it was important to his Master. The best thing for him to do, was to keep it safe until he awoke.

A commotion sounded in the distance. Voices, footsteps and two humming sounds. He spun his dome around to the darkness and propped out his scanner. Lifeforms were approaching. Lots of them.

A blue and green light lit up the shadows and Artoo squealed with delight. He rocked side to side, twittering and chirping to get their attention.

"Artoo?" Padmè cried, suddenly breaking from the pack and sprinting forward. Obi-wan, Jaina and Appo ran after her.

The moment her eyes caught sight of him on the floor, her heart stopped. "ANAKIN!" she screamed, as she skidded to a stop and dropped to her knees beside the Dark Lord. She grabbed his arm and shook him. "Anakin, I'm here," she sobbed.

Obi-wan and Jaina hung back with Artoo, dropping their weapons down to the side. Vader wasn't responding to Padmè's jostling and there was an eerie silence surrounding him. Even his respirator was silent.

"Is he ...?" Jaina whispered.

The older Jedi took a deep breath. He suddenly didn't know what to feel. Tears were swelling in his eyes and he stealthily lifted his free hand to brush them away. He closed his eyes and drew on the force, stretching out across their old bond – something he never thought he would do again – feeling for his former brother's presence.

Opening his eyes, he turned to the blonde padawan. "No," he choked back. "He's still with us."

"Get Lord Vader into the capsule," Commander Appo ordered to his men. He dropped down into a crouch and gripped the Sith's shoulders. "My Lady, please step back, we need to roll him," he said softly to Padmè sobbing. She stared up at him and nodded, rising to her feet and stumbling back.

Obi-wan holstered his weapon and moved forward, wrapping his arms around the distraught woman to comfort her. Her sodden hazel eyes turned fierce, as she glared back. "He's going to be alright, Padmè," he said quietly.

"How do you know?" she spat back, slapping at his chest. "You'd be happy if he died right here!"

Gently gripping her shoulders, he pulled her tight against his chest and allowed her to sob. She was so far from the truth, but here wasn't the right place to discuss it. Rubbing her back, he watched as the troopers carefully rolled his hulking body onto his back and then lifted him into the medical capsule.


	37. Chapter 34: Concursus Titanis

**Chapter 34: Concursus Titanis**

Obi-wan stood back and watched as Commander Appo and Padmè took the medical capsule into the rear cabin. He could still feel Anakin's force presence lingering in the fragile depths of their once powerful bond. Ever since their minds had connected back before Padmè had joined them at Tatooine, the echoes remained. Surprisingly, they were still very much connected.

But it was different now. Everything was.

Ever since ...

No, he admonished himself. Dwelling on the past wouldn't help here. He had to keep his mind in the present, focussed on the here and now.

That's what Qui-gon would've told him.

He slumped down onto a seat beside Jaina, sparing her a brief glance. She too remained quiet, staring at her feet. The Sith Temple had had quite an affect on the young padawan, something he was all too aware of the instant they set foot inside. Her aura had shifted, drifting dangerously close to the darkness. Perhaps she too would fall victim to its crippling embrace.

Turning his gaze to the floor, he sighed.

And just like with Anakin, he would once again be powerless to stop it. Just like with _Vader,_ he internally corrected. It was becoming harder to differentiate between his former padawan and the _thing_ he had become. Despite the armour, he could see so many similarities. Especially when he had paced back and forth in his cell in exactly the same way he had on Mustafar. The same stride, the same stance, the exact same struggle for control. Now, the hardest part was knowing he hadn't completely surrendered to the dark side. He had felt it in the cell, his internal struggle ... his conflict.

He was fighting to remain in the darkness. Trying to keep himself there. But why? Why would he hold on? Was Palpatine's control over him really that great? Or could he be ... ?

No. He would not get his hopes up.

Obi-wan leant back against the shuttle wall and stroked his beard. The two of them needed to talk, as difficult and painful as that was going to be. Things needed to be said, especially if he was going to be in constant contact with him. The battle was going to be not only getting him alone, but also in the correct frame of mind at the same time. And that meant getting him away from Padmè and away from Jaina. Just the two of them, former master and padawan, having it out like the old days.

Minus their lightsabers.

The blast door to the rear cabin opened and the trooper commander stepped out, sealing it shut behind him. He motioned for two of his men to stand guard. A futile attempt really, there were always ways of getting around clone troopers. His grey eyes followed the Commander as he made his way to the hold, taking a seat directly across from him and placing his blaster on his lap. He was ever so loyal to Vader. It made him wonder, did he actually know who it was behind the black mask? Or was he simply another soldier doing his duty?

A small tremor rippled through the force. He turned his attention back to the guarded door and waited. The tremor rippled again, this one a little stronger than its predecessor. It was strange. Muted. Washed out. Almost smoky. Closing his eyes, he stretched out with the force to meet it.

In the rear cabin, Padmè sat crying on the med-cot alongside the dark lord's capsule. He'd showed no signs of waking throughout the long trek back to the shuttle, and she was worried sick. If only she could feel the force like the Jedi, then perhaps she would be able to sense how he was faring. Obi-wan had insisted that he would be alright, but what if he was just saying that to try and comfort her? Did he know for sure?

Releasing his leather gloved hand, she got up and started to wander around. Should she go and speak to Obi-wan? Would he be able to tell her any more? Or should she just wait until they docked, having him join her and her husband in the med-bay?

Vader's respirator suddenly re-engaged, rhythmically hissing in and then out. She spun to face him, tears glittering her cheeks.

"Pad – mè."

"Anakin!" she cried, hurrying to his side. "You're alright." Wiping her face with the sleeve of her robe, she fought the urge to throw her arms around him. He seemed disoriented and wobbly, his arms shaking as he tried to right himself.

Pushing up into a sitting position, he dropped his legs over the side and slumped his helmeted head forward, bracing the front with his hand. "Where am I?" he rumbled weakly.

"On one of your shuttles," she said, taking his free hand and squeezing it tight. "We're about to head back to the ship."

"How ... _how_ did I get here?"

"We rescued you."

He dropped his hand to the edge of the capsule and tilted his mask to look at her. She could only imagine the perplexed expression on his face at this moment.

"By 'we' you mean?" he grumbled, a twinge of annoyance colouring his tone. She could tell his indignation by his clipped words as they left the vocoder.

"Yes, Anakin. He came too."

He let out a low grumble, muttering something unintelligible beneath his breath. Pushing up from the capsule, he staggered forward and slowly steadied himself. "Where is Artoo?" he asked, straightening his cape . "Has he got my Interceptor?"

"He's flying it back to the Exactor as we speak." She watched him slowly come back to reality, piecing together all the clues until they formed a picture. Moving in front of him, she gently touched his leather clad arms and stared up into the lenses of his mask. He hesitated for just a moment before wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her closer.

"What happened to you?" she whispered.

Vader went deathly silent, his breathing audibly skipping a cycle. Brief flashbacks suddenly jolted before his eyes. Darth Bane's accusation. Burning. Shrieking. Malgus. Flaming faces with haunting yellow eyes. Their talon-like fingers thrusting into his flesh. The pain. The excruciating _pain._ How could he even begin to describe what he'd just been through? He couldn't fully remember the whole experience himself, let alone explain it.

His jaw clenched. He looked away from her expectant stare, his hidden eyes suddenly drawn to the cabin door. "Nothing, Padmè," he growled dismissively. "Don't worry about it." There were voices outside. He tried to listen in on the conversation. One was one of his troopers and the other was ...

"Kenobi," he hissed, moving to pull away.

Padmè tightened her arms around his waist. "Can't you forget about Obi-wan for just a minute and talk to _me_?"

The fragile sound of her voice pulled him up short. He turned back to her, seeing her pleading eyes staring up at him. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her hair dishevelled, partly tied back in a double knot with several freed locks draping down over her neck. He didn't want to push her away, but he couldn't talk about the temple. Not now. It was simpler to channel his confusion and frustration into anger. And his former master just on the other side of the door was the perfect excuse, an outlet for his ever-building fury. Clamping his teeth, he stared down at his beloved Angel, begging for him to open up to her.

"I ... I don't want to talk about it, Padmè," he rumbled. "I need time to think."

"Don't shut me out," she pleaded, reaching for his mask. "Let me in ... _please_."

He gently pushed her hand down and turned away, walking to the far end of the cabin.

On the other side of the door, Obi-wan was trying to gain passage into the rear cabin. The force was in turmoil, the two warring sides clashing and sparking for dominion. Vader was obviously awake and struggling to gather himself. Light and dark crashed against each other, the aftershocks shattering through the force like an electrical storm lighting up the dead of night. He needed to get in there, needed to stop him from doing something he would most certainly regret.

"You don't understand. I _need_ to talk with him," Obi-wan urged.

The two troopers didn't budge.

"And I am sure that Lord Vader has no time for you, _Jedi_ ," Commander Appo announced from behind, blocking his exit.

Obi-wan spun around, his grey eyes begging for the Commander to listen to him. "Just go in and ask him, before we take off. If he refuses, I will gladly return to my seat, Commander."

Appo remained silent, holstering his blaster and looking between him and the blast door. "Very well, I will ask him. But when he declines, you _will_ return to your seat, is that understood?"

"Thank you Commander," Obi-wan said with a nod. He watched the trooper step around him and in between his men, disappearing through the door and closing it behind him. He was in there for less than a minute before the door re-opened and he walked out with his hand pointing inside.

"You may enter, Jedi," Appo said, standing off to the side.

The air was thick when he moved inside, the sudden whoosh of the blast door closing making him jump. Vader was standing at the rear of the room with his back to Padmè. They both turned to face him by the door, Padmè's face puffy from tears and Vader's stance – arms tightly folded at his chest – clearly conveying his built up frustration.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Obi-wan said, crossing his arms and glancing between the still agitated husband and wife. They must have been arguing about something. Exactly what that something was, was anyone's guess.

"What do you want?" Vader snarled.

His comment earned him a stern glare from his wife, but he seemingly paid it no attention.

" _We_ need to talk," Obi-wan said, not bothering to sugar coat his intentions. He watched on as Vader clenched both fists and turned back to face the wall. The shuttle engines started up, the deep rumbling echoing in the cabin as it finally left the ground.

"No _. You_ feel the need to talk, _Kenobi_ ," Vader spat with distaste. "I, however, am not affected by such an affliction."

"He won't even talk to me Obi-wan!" Padmè declared, folding her arms and staring straight at him. "What made you think he would even consider speaking to _you_?"

" _Padmè_ ," the Dark Lord hissed in warning.

So _that's_ what they had been arguing about, Obi-wan reflected. He could see it now – the bubbling frustration and despair leaching from his former padawan's wife. So his initial suspicions had been incorrect; Vader had no intention of physically harming his irritated wife. But the emotional damage he was inflicting – by shutting her out after such a harrowing ordeal – was just as effective. Padmè was hurting and her pain was intense. Almost as intense as the tides of the force. The churning chiaroscuro that was his former brother's allegiance. Turning his eyes on the back of the ebony cloaked figure, he steeled his nerve. "I know what you're doing, Anakin," he stated, taking a step closer. "But what I don't understand, is _why_."

"You don't know _anything_ ," he snarled in response. "But perhaps you will find the solitude of your cell more conducive to such _useless_ speculation."

"He's not going back to the cell when we get back Anakin," Padmè interrupted. "Obi-wan and Jaina will be staying in my quarters for the remainder of our journey."

The force trilled a warning and an icy chill swept over the pressurized air.

Vader suddenly snapped around, his hands locked stiffly at his thighs. "WHAT?" he roared, his glare shifting between his wife and former master. Somehow he'd done it again, poisoning his Angel's mind and turning her against him. The light retreated from his presence, fleeing in fear, as it always did. _Pathetic_. Neither Padmè nor Kenobi dared to speak, stunned into a sudden petrified stupor. He wanted to lash out, but thankfully over his transitional months had learned how to keep his urges under tentative control. For now he would bite his tongue, but the conversation was _far_ from over. Fists shaking, he turned back to the rear wall. He would wait until they docked.

Then he would act.

The shuttle docked in the Exactor's main hangar. Unlike usual, the sector was devoid of a welcoming party, as Vader had specifically ordered. This time he didn't want an audience. He just wanted to get Padmè back into her quarters, safe and away from prying eyes. As the awkward trio joined Jaina, Commander Appo and his men on the flight deck, Vader pulled his wife to a stop.

"Commander, escort my wife and the Jedi padawan to her quarters," he boomed, hooking his hands into his belt. "I will deal with the other Jedi _myself._ "

"Right away My Lord," Appo acknowledged. "Lady Vader?" he asked holding his hand out in the most gentlemanly way possible.

Padmè glanced between them.

Vader sensed his wife's hesitation and simply gestured to the trooper, effectively dismissing her. He knew it wasn't going to go down well, but it was in his best interests to keep her and Kenobi separated. Especially if he suddenly decided to voice every insignificant little thing he sensed through the force. Their relationship was already strained beyond belief and the very last thing he needed was for his former master to go sticking his nose in where it wasn't welcome.

He watched them leave the hangar, Appo siphoning them through the main blast doors and disappearing down the corridor. "Come with me," he snarled to Obi-wan, then with a dramatic flourish of his cape, he charged forward.

• • •

"Padmè!" Sabè greeted as she hurried into her suite. "I was starting to get worried. What happened?"

"It's a long story, Sabè," she said, storming into the main sitting area and pacing in circles. She didn't like this. Anakin was in another of his dark moods and now force only knew what was about to transpire.

"Where do you think he's taking Obi-wan?" Jaina asked, dropping onto the sofa and clasping her hands in her lap.

"Back to his cell ... I _hope,_ " she remarked, continuing on her patrol. She wanted to run down every corridor until she found them, but Commander Appo was standing guard just outside. There's no way she was getting out that way.

"He's taking Obi-wan somewhere?" Sabè demanded. "You have to speak to him Padmè! Can't you do something?"

"It's my doing something that's caused this reaction Sabè," Padmè explained, stopping to stare out the port window. "I told him that Obi-wan and Jaina would be staying with us in here. It upset him."

"He behaves like a petulant child, Padmè," the handmaiden spat. "Throwing his weight around and having a tantrum whenever he doesn't get his own way. I hope wherever he takes him, Obi-wan gives him a good run for his money and knocks him down a peg or two."

"Please, don't make this any harder than what it already is," Padmè requested, turning to look upon the once supportive woman's face. "If all of you had just left us alone when he came to get me at Tatooine, none of this would be happening."

"What are you talking about?"

Padmè paced back and forth. If only they had managed to get back on the shuttle before Obi-wan got to them. Anakin was awake, determined to leave everything and finally run away with her. It had been seeing Luke and Leia that had suddenly changed his mind. Why did everyone have to intervene? Why couldn't they let her just deal with her husband in her own way, the way only she could?

"Padmè?" Sabè asked.

She shot her handmaiden a scolding glare, finally losing her battle to remain calm with her. "He was prepared to run away, Sabè! To leave everything! We had a chance! We actually had a chance!" Tears started to slip down her cheeks, no longer able to keep her heartache bottled up inside. "But Obi-wan had to get involved." She dropped onto the sofa and cried into her hands, her wavering voice jolting amidst the sobs. "Again ... he ... ruined ... _everything_."

• • •

Vader stepped out of the turbo-lift and into the corridor, his festering temper causing the overhead lights to intermittently flicker. Two officers saw him approach and hastily ducked down a nearby passage. He could feel Kenobi keeping pace behind him. Good. At least he didn't need to turn around and make sure, looking upon the accusatory face of his former master was not something he wanted to do right now. He didn't have time for this. Reaching the chamber, he stopped by the reinforced blast door and lifted his wrist to his ventilator to signal the bridge.

" _Yes, Lord Vader?"_ the Captain acknowledged.

"Captain, set your course for Dromund Kaas."

" _As you wish My Lord."_

At least the ship would soon be on its way. He turned off his comm-unit and activated the security door release. With a wave of his gloved hand the door opened. "Get in," he hissed, not turning to look at the Jedi at his back.

For once, Kenobi did as instructed without comment, his brown robe fluttering as he walked blindly into the darkened room. Vader charged in behind him and sealed the door shut. The lights flickered on, revealing a vast empty chamber. The walls were the typical Star Destroyer grey, with additional armoured alloy cladding layered on top. Recessed into the floor, walls and ceiling were hundreds of tiny holo-projectors all linked to a central computer housed in a tall locker on the far wall.

This was one of his personal sanctuaries, his private training room. It seemed only fitting that he should bring Kenobi here, after all, he was usually the person he used to channel his rage. Fine tuning his anger and sharpening it to a point, so it could be stored away for later use.

Vader stopped in place and folded his arms, his eyes fixed on the Jedi up ahead.

"Another interrogation room?" Kenobi remarked, turning to face him.

"Among other uses," he growled back impatiently.

Kenobi dragged his hand up through his shaggy hair and huffed. There were so many thoughts racing through his mind and he was struggling for somewhere to begin. He looked up at the foreboding black mask, searching for some skerrick of the man he used to call brother. "Anakin, I –"

"Anakin Skywalker is _dead_ ," Vader interjected.

Obi-wan shook his head and folded his arms. "Padmè doesn't seem to think so."

The Dark Lord dropped his gaze to the floor, his helmeted head tilting down just slightly. "No ... and in some sense she's right." Clenching his fists, he suddenly snapped his head back up and went completely stiff. "But with regards to _you_ ," he spat, jabbing his finger in the air, "I assure you, he is very much _dead._ "

Obi-wan started to walk in circles, unsure where to go or what to do. He needed to understand what drove him to this madness. How someone so passionate about saving people and protecting what he loved, could transform into this hideous being. He stopped circling and wiped a small tear from his eye. "Tell me why," he blurted. "I need to know what drove you into this madness."

"What difference does it make?" Vader growled, turning away. "What's done is done."

"So you _do_ feel remorse?"

The Dark Lord whirled around, his cape floating behind him. " _Remorse?_ The only thing I regret is not killing you when I had the chance!" He started to pace, his boots thundering on the floor with each angry step. "You ruined everything!" he boomed.

" _I_ did?" Obi-wan argued. "How do you figure?"

Vader continued to pace, growing more enraged by the second. His fists were tightly clenched, swinging wildly at his sides as he continued to stomp back and forth. "You just couldn't stay away, could you?" he snarled, shaking his helmeted head. "I was going to kill him. But _you_ ..." He ground to a halt and spun in place, once again wagging his gloved finger. "You _had_ to intervene. First condemning me to Padmè and then showing your deceitful face on her ship when she came to me."

"She had no idea what she was up against, Anakin!" Obi-wan cried, trying to stay calm but failing miserably.

"NEITHER DID _YOU!_ " Vader roared, all modicum of self-control vanishing. His hand curtly brushed the hilt of his still holstered lightsaber. "You made me believe she'd betrayed me! That she'd brought you to Mustafar to kill me!"

The dark side of the force was in full flight, swarming around its vessel with all its malevolent grace. Obi-wan recognised the warning signs, knowing that he was now on borrowed time. This whole conversation – which was _supposed_ to be civil – was fast spiralling out of control. But he _was_ making progress. As much as he was wary of Vader's impending wrath, he knew he had to keep pushing. This could be his only opportunity. He gripped the hilt of his weapon, but made no move to retrieve it, then took two guarded steps back. "Then _you_ decided to choke her. Your heavily pregnant wife! _You_ did that Anakin, all ... by ... yourself!"

" _That ..._ I regret," he hissed, the tempest surrounding him momentarily calming somewhat. "But it would never have happened if you had just stayed out of it."

" _Stayed out of it?!"_ Obi-wan repeated in disbelief. "How could I after what you'd done?"

"That was only the beginning," he snarled, ripping his saber from his belt and igniting it, the scarlet blade humming into life. "But you _had_ to get in the way, trying to interfere with the _will_ of the _force_. Turning _me_ into _this_!"

Vader's final declaration was punctuated with two heaving strides forward, followed by a faster-than-light sweep of his blade. Obi-wan had all but a second to react, jumping out of range and withdrawing his weapon.

"You left me no choice Anakin!" Obi-wan yelled, parrying the strike at his neck. He took another step back, his blue blade cracking against the Sith's by his leg then again at his neck.

"I _gave_ you the choice!" Vader roared, lifting the crimson beam just passed his shoulder. "You could've walked away!" The lightsaber sailed through the air, screaming as it plunged for his shoulder.

Obi-wan shifted and intercepted, forcing his strike to the ground. In a swift sweep his retaliative thrust connected, grazing the Dark Lord's upper arm just below the pauldron.

"Aargh!" Vader hissed. Quickly regaining himself as he stumbled back, his black mask locked on his face.

A sudden pang of guilt briefly assaulted him. He never wanted to hurt him then, and he still didn't now. Obi-wan sucked back a cry, the crippling heartache once more overwhelming him. "I loved you like a brother Anakin!"

His admission only served to enrage Vader further, made obvious by the sudden growl he responded with, charging toward him with his saber hung low.

"If you _truly_ loved me," he snarled, rapidly getting closer, "you _would_ have _killed me!_ " His heavily armoured body exuded a valiant grace that defied the laws of gravity. Two more steps saw his saber flying from the floor and moving for the upper-cut.

But Obi-wan had seen it coming. He expertly blocked the attack, parrying the scarlet weapon away and dropping into a roll. Half-stumble and half-run he moved for the door, gaining some much needed distance.

Vader, vision impaired by the mask, hastily whirled around to face him.

"Killing you would have been a mercy!" Obi-wan declared from his place by the door. "After seeing what you did to the younglings, I wasn't feeling particularly merciful!"

"Their death was a necessary loss," the Dark Lord growled, momentarily pausing his assault. "I was more than efficient, they did not suffer."

"They were _CHILDREN!_ " he cried. "They didn't deserve to die at all!"

"Had they survived, they would've suffered a fate far worse than death. I liberated them!"

"They're dead, not free! You murdered them!"

Vader's blade hung limply at his side, as if contemplating his next offensive. When he spoke, what he said knocked the wind from Obi-wan's lungs.

"Still a preferable alternative to what Palpatine had planned for them," he growled, shifting his footing. He momentarily dropped his gaze to the floor, disappearing into his own thoughts.

Obi-wan regarded him for a minute. Vader was reliving, focussing on the memories of his past. For a fleeting moment, he felt something akin to hope surge in his breast. "It's not too late to turn back Anakin," he said, focusing on the flicker of light in the force. "We can still fix this."

Perhaps that wasn't the right thing to say. It seemed to have the adverse effect to what he was hoping for. Vader snapped out of his reverie and gripped his weapon in both hands.

" _Fix_ this?" he hissed in disgust. "LOOK AT ME!"

Definitely wasn't the right thing to say. Obi-wan started to back for the door. The overhead lights flickered, the walls rattled. He was so much more powerful now than what he remembered. As if his force-rage had the very ship trembling with fear. He was now a creature of the dark, fully immersed and totally consumed.

With two thundering strides, Vader let out a violent roar and thrust both hands forward. The pulse hit him a nanosecond later, catapulting him into the blast door and tearing it from its hinges. He was suddenly flying back through the corridor, faster than any speeder.

His body found the end wall with a bone-shattering crack.

Gasping for air, he struggled to move from the floor. There was a sharp stabbing pain in his chest and a dull ache radiating down his left arm. Blinking through the concussed haze and strobing lights, he could just make out the black silhouette of a cloaked figure charging toward him. He patted down the floor with his good arm, searching for his lightsaber. Something metallic brushed against his fingertips and he quickly grasped it in desperation.

 _CRACK!_

Padmè leapt from her seat, her eyes suddenly darting to the door. The floor and walls were vibrating, sending quaking tremors through the soles of her boots.

"What was that?" Jaina cried, hurrying out from the bedchamber. "Are we under attack?"

She turned to stare at the young padawan, seeing the look of pure shock etched upon her face. "No. I fear it's something much, _much_ worse," she breathed. Padmè looked to the door again and then ran for it, hearing the unmistakable sound of lightsabers clashing.

Obi-wan scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his chest. Each breath was a struggle and his heart was pounding. He tried to focus on the force but the dark side clouded everything. He was backed into the corner and Vader's attack was relentless, his saber furiously swinging left and right, chewing at the walls either side. Mid-parry, Obi-wan's eyes caught sight of the flashing diodes on his chest plate.

His former padawan had changed his fighting style, and now he thought he understood why. Not only did he have to contend with the restrictions of his armour, but he was also actively guarding his chest, keeping his arms and weapon securely locked around it in defence.

He just needed an opening.

Like the force had heard his thoughts, a voice screamed out over the chaos, just as Vader was lifting his blade to strike.

"ANAKIN NO!" Padmè cried out.

Then with the distraction, he had his opening. The Dark Lord hesitated, his helmeted head swinging to stare at his wife, his blade still hanging in the air.

Obi-wan didn't wait for a second chance. A sharp twist, a sudden snap and his boot connected with the control panel, kicking his former padawan square in the chest.

"OBI-WAN!" Padmè screamed.

With a strangled cry, Vader staggered back, his lightsaber falling from his hand and clattering to the floor. Sparks cascaded from his suit, the smell of arcing electrical wires and burning leather filling the air. He fumbled with the box on his chest, slowly turning around with each ungainly stumble.

As soon as his back was to him, Obi-wan sprang into action, running up behind him and leaping to grab hold of his shoulder armour. Wrapping both arms around his neck, he wrestled his legs around his waist, pinning his arms and interlocking both feet.

"Get ... off ... of ... me," his robotic voice crackled through the mask as he thrashed about, staggering sideways into the wall. His respirator was failing, clicking and hissing in short, stunted bursts.

If he could just bring him down, just maybe, he could restrain him long enough to actually have a meaningful conversation. As they spun and staggered, he threw his head back and pulled on his neck.

Vader suddenly lost his balance and they both tumbled to the ground, landing with a thump. His weight was immense, crushing his body underneath like a fallen bantha. But he couldn't lose focus, he had him. Tightening his arms around his neck like a vice, Obi-wan fought to keep him down.

"Calm down Anakin," he croaked, holding on tight. "I don't want to hurt you."

Amidst the intermittent click and hiss, a rumbling growl resonated from Vader's chest.

"Let go of him Obi-wan!" Padmè yelled, running over and furiously tugging on his legs. "He can't breathe! Let him go!"

Inside the mask, Vader was trying to focus on steadying his heart rate. Error messages and warning alerts were flashing across his lenses. He could hear the respirator faulting. The mask was claustrophobic but contrary to his wife's claim, he _was_ getting oxygen, just not quite enough for comfort. He felt Kenobi's legs shift from around his arms, finally giving him the ability to move. "It's alright Padmè," he croaked, moving his hand and trying to wave her away.

"Anakin, please stop this," she begged from beside him.

His troopers were fast approaching. Closing his eyes, he visualized the corridor ballast doors and willed them all shut, not wanting an audience at present.

"Go, Padme." He waited a few more shallow breaths, then continued. "It will be fine."

He sensed her presence gradually ease away. Kenobi's grip around his neck tightened and he was rapidly losing patience. "Let go Kenobi," he growled lowly, "I will only ask once."

"I will release you when you calm down Anakin."

He rolled his eyes behind the mask and clamped his jaw tight. Stubborn fool. He never did know when to let go. With a subtle twitch of his fingers, he reached out through the force and decided to gently persuade him. Kenobi started to gurgle and cough right behind his helmet. Then magically removed his arms.

"I warned you," he said, keeping his grip and slowly pushing himself up. Once he was sitting upright, he released the choke hold and moved to rest his back against the wall.

"You choked me!" Kenobi protested, rubbing his throat.

"I did say I would only ask once," he grumbled, pulling the emergency toolkit from his belt. "You should've listened." He opened the damaged front panel of his chest plate and set to work. The sparking wires had scorched several of the intricate circuits and fused two of the main cables together. He groaned in frustration. This was going to take a while.

"I can't believe you actually choked me," Kenobi complained, as he leant on the other wall of the corner.

"Stop whinging, I need to concentrate." He managed to separate the two cables, but inadvertently pulled a little too hard. A bright blue spark shot from the wires, jolting the pliers from his grip. "Blast it!" he hissed, flicking his hand.

Obi-wan leant forward, trying to see. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he snapped, turning to glare straight at him. "I have to repair it before the central chip gets damaged."

"Oh, I see," he said, leaning forward a little further. It all looked dreadfully complicated and now seeing how difficult it was to fix, he felt a little guilty. "Does it ...?"

"Does what, what?" Vader grumbled distantly, still trying to focus.

"Well, the suit. Does it hurt?"

He suddenly dropped his tools and turned to stare at him. Obi-wan could see his own reflection in the curved red lenses and it made him feel slightly foolish for asking.

"In comparison to having your legs cleaved off and burning alive in a river of lava, no." He picked the pliers back up and resumed the repairs.

Several long, silent moments passed between them before Vader finally broke the silence.

"Pain is relative, Obi-wan," he rumbled contemplatively, reconnecting the new wires and dropping the damaged ones to the floor. "You either become crippled by it ... or you use it to grow stronger."

And at that moment, Obi-wan knew it was the right time to talk – to _really_ talk. He took a deep breath and relaxed back against the wall. "So tell me," he started, focusing on the force and using it to remain impassive. "If you were going to kill Palpatine, then why haven't you done it?"

"Because you took that ability away from me," he growled. Finishing off the new connections, he closed the front panel and started to pack the tools away. "You made sure I could never stand up against him ever again."

Obi-wan quietly watched him slump back onto the wall, his respirator rhythmically hissing in and out, back to its usual pace. A brief flash of his flaming body appeared from the depths, accompanied by the chilling scream that haunted his dreams.

 _I HATE YOU!_

He sighed, and willed the unsettling memory away. Morbidly, he couldn't help but wonder what he actually looked like inside the suit. He already knew both legs and his right arm were prosthetic, but what of the rest of him? And then, _how_ is he still alive?

Beside him, Vader pushed up from the floor, his towering figure moving to block the light. A strange groan rumbled from his vocoder as he clenched his hands into fists and turned away, his black cloak obscuring his body.

"You condemned me to this life Obi-wan," he said, his voice as close to a whisper as the modulator could replicate. "There is _no_ turning back."

He started to walk away. Obi-wan struggled to his feet, wincing at the sudden stab in his side. He tried to ignore it, and hurried to follow the Sith. "So what now, Anakin?" he asked, rushing to his side. "You just give up and surrender?"

Vader didn't break his solid stride, continuing on through the corridor, his black armour glistening in the fluorescent lights. He didn't respond to the question, choosing to leave it hanging in the air between them.

"What about Padmè?" Obi-wan continued. "What about Luke and Leia? Do you even care what happens to them?"

Rounding the bend, he suddenly stopped by the suite door and whirled to face him. "Don't ever question my love for my family," he scolded, jabbing his gloved finger. "I can tolerate your presence on my ship, but I will not have you accuse me of not having my family's best interests at heart."

Obi-wan folded his arms and stared him down. The notion of him being even remotely capable of loving anyone was completely absurd. It conflicted with everything he knew of the Sith and the Dark Side of the Force. "You say you love them, Anakin. But a Sith is incapable of such emotions."

"You have a very narrow-minded view of the Force, Obi-wan," Vader said, moving to activate the security panel to Padmè's suite. "Qui-gon Jinn would be most disappointed."

That stab hurt Obi-wan more than anything else he could have said at that moment, and he knew it. Anakin knew very well how much Qui-gon's approval had always meant to him. Without giving him a chance to defend himself, Vader opened the door and went to join his family, leaving it open for him to follow.

"Anakin!" Padmè cried, running across the sitting room in her white silken nightgown and throwing her arms around him. Vader stepped forward and pulled her in close, tilting his mask down and encasing her within his embrace. Obi-wan stopped just inside the doorway, watching the two of them together. Luke and Leia were crying in their room and it seemed both parents were oblivious to it.

"I can't calm them down Padmè," Sabè groaned as she entered the sitting room. "Maybe you can ... _oh my_!"

The handmaiden stood slack-jawed, staring at the three of them. Her big emotion filled brown eyes found him. "Obi-wan, you're alright!" she cried, suddenly running toward him. He groaned internally and prepared himself for her assault. The woman was infatuated with him, and honestly, he just wasn't interested. Especially not right now.

"Sabè, wait," he urged, holding his hands out to intercept her. But she didn't listen. He let out a cry and winced in agony as she threw her arms around him. She stared up at him, her expression dire.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

He did his best to smile. Gently extracting himself from her grip, he nodded and rubbed his side. "You could say that," he grumbled. "Where is Jaina?"

Sabè looked to the passage, then to Vader and Padmè and finally back to him. "She's in the bedroom trying to settle the twins. They've been hysterical since you two started fighting."

"Really?" he asked, noticing the Sith and his wife suddenly heading for the bedroom. Thanks to Sabè chattering his ear off, he'd missed the conversation going on between them and now they were off. "I'm sorry my lady, but will you excuse me for a minute?" He pulled away, and went to follow them.

Walking down the passage he was surprised to hear that both children had now stopped wailing. He reached the door and peered inside.

There was no stopping the involuntary gasp that escaped his mouth.

"Shhh, my little angel. There is no need to cry," Vader cooed, cradling his infant daughter. His cape fluttered as he gently swayed from side to side. Padmè was standing right beside him, rocking Luke in her arms.

Jaina smiled up at him from alongside the makeshift crib, her crystal blue eyes echoing his thoughts. The two of them looked so uncharacteristically happy. There was no denying the love between both parents and their offspring. He sighed, leaning against the doorframe and stroking his beard.

Maybe the Jedi were wrong. Or perhaps it wasn't so much the Jedi, but more likely Anakin himself not having completely surrendered to the dark side.

Either way, he had a lot to think about.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Thank you so much for all of your reviews, follows and favourites and I trust this chapter does not disappoint.

Quick shout out to **Izzy, RyuuShadow, Sfloresf and Guest** for your reviews.

We're nearing the end of this journey, and I want to thank you all for sticking it out. As I said before, this story is the first part of a trilogy and I hope that you find its sequel as entertaining as this one.

MTFBWY


	38. Chapter 35: Submersam

**Chapter 35: Submersam**

A symphony of little snores mixed with the even rasp of Vader's respirator broke the exhausted silence in the main sitting room. Steady streams of white and blue light streaked past the port window, tell-tale signs of the Star Destroyer's presence in hyperspace. Padmè sighed, wistfully admiring Luke sleeping in her lap. Jaina had retired for the evening and Sabè sat at the dining table, sipping her tea and browsing the holonet on her datapad.

"Is he sleeping?" Obi-wan asked from his seat on the far end of the couch.

Padmè glanced at Vader lying to her left. He looked oddly comfortable with his left leg elevated on the ottoman and his right slightly bent to the floor. Leia was curled up asleep in his arms, her chubby fingers tightly wrapped around a fold of his cloak.

She smiled. It was a sight to behold, seeing her Sith husband finally at ease and relaxing with their daughter, not on edge, not pacing in anger and not fighting off some unavoidable circumstance. There was a distinct air of peace and tranquillity hovering about them.

"I believe so," she said, keeping her voice low. "It's hard to say. But he hasn't moved for the last hour."

"The twins have certainly become attached to him in such a short space of time," he said, shifting onto his other side.

"Well, he is their father, Obi-wan. I just assumed it had something to do with the Force. Some paternal bond or something," Padmè said, lifting her hand to suffocate a yawn. "It's a relief to actually see him sleep, he doesn't get a lot nowadays."

"Does he still suffer from nightmares?"

She shook her head, glancing back to watch him again, committing the peaceful image to memory. "I'm not sure," she whispered, tenderly brushing her hand along his thigh. He didn't react, confirming her belief that he was in fact asleep. "But the respirator and cybernetics tend to keep him awake. He struggles to relax through the constant pain and noise."

Obi-wan tugged his robe up higher and settled back into the cushion, hoping to get some much needed rest himself. The last few days had been nothing short of traumatic and now with the air somewhat cleared between the two of them, he was left feeling completely shattered. Apparently, so too was Vader.

Padmè yawned again, this time disturbing the little blonde cherub on her lap. He grumbled and squirmed in her arms in protest. "Well, I suppose I should put these two little younglings to bed," she said, pulling Luke to her chest and shuffling forward. "We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Where was it he said he was taking us?" Sabè asked from the table, looking over to them.

"Drum-something," Padmè said, rising to her feet. She headed for the passage, glancing over her shoulder to the Jedi. "Obi-wan, can you remember?"

With a long yawn, Obi-wan rubbed his eyes and mumbled. "Dromund Kaas, if I remember correctly."

The instant the words left his lips, Vader groaned and his body tensed. Obi-wan hunched forward, his weary grey eyes glued to the Sith and his daughter.

"Was that him?" Sabè asked from the table.

"Yes. Quiet Sabè, something's wrong," Obi-wan hushed, leaning closer. Vader twitched again only this time Leia moved with him. With her little eyes still closed, she let go of his cloak and stretched her tiny hand out, placing it palm down onto his leather-clad chest. A tiny spark glittered through the Force, surging between the two of them. After a brief moment, the Dark Lord relaxed, a muted groan escaping his mask.

Padmè stumbled back from the passage, stretching her arms above her head in yet another yawn. "Time for daddy's little angel to go to bed," she mumbled, moving around the sofa to retrieve her daughter.

"Wait, Padmè," Obi-wan whispered, holding his hand up. "Don't separate them just yet. There's something going on between them."

She stopped mid-step and looked to him in a daze. "What are you talking about? They're both sleeping."

The energy continued to spark between them, much like a new star beaming into life against the blackness of space. He let out a deep, slow breath and slumped back. "I suspect you are right about their being connected through the Force. I could be wrong, but it appears as though Leia is subconsciously trying to help him."

Padmè quizzically glanced between them. "What makes you think that?"

"A disturbance in the Force," he mumbled, stroking his beard and slinking further back onto the couch. "It might be best to leave them ... for the time being at least."

"Well, I suppose it can't hurt," she agreed, walking over and settling in beside the sleeping Sith. Tucking her legs up onto the cushion, she angled herself so that her head could comfortably rest upon his cloak covered pauldron and yawned, making no effort to resist it. Closing her eyes, she got comfortable and mumbled. "Anakin always said that my presence soothed him, it stands to reason that our daughter's would too."

Obi-wan pondered her statement. He could still see the residual image of his former padawan force-choking her. The powerful waves of raw anger and despair he felt tearing through their bond. Hardly what he would consider to be soothing. But perhaps that was a catalyst, one of the motivations for him lashing out. He'd admitted during their _conversation_ , that he'd believed she'd betrayed him.

Just another shove into the darkness.

Drifting through memories, he felt his eyes grow heavy and finally drop closed. Unbidden, the haunting image of his emaciated body engulfed in flames suddenly jarred into focus. And, as always, a solid lump immediately lodged itself deep into his throat. He tried to swallow it down. Tried to squash it. The recurring nightmare. The heart wrenching agony of watching his brother and closest friend screaming in pain.

As angry and hurt and disappointed and frustrated and confused as he'd felt, it had still taken all of his strength and willpower to walk away. To finally turn his back on Anakin – the nine year old slave boy he'd sworn his life to train and protect – to leave him there, on the ashen glass sand burning alive, even after _everything_ he'd done.

Depression and disgust raised its ugly head once more, forcing his eyes to open. He stared at the black armoured Sith, still deep in sleep, now with his wife curled up alongside him. His helmeted head gently dipped and swayed in time to the steady rise and fall of his chest. The constant rasp of his breathing drowning out the quiet snores of his infant daughter dreaming in his arms. For a moment he could almost see the unruly waves of his long blonde hair framing his young, rugged face. Could envision the deep red scar that ran down his right cheek and framed his brilliant blue eyes that he'd earned during the war.

The lump rose higher.

Was there anything he could've done differently? Anything he might've said that could have altered his course? He could have stood up to the council. He could've voiced his concerns louder. _Should_ have voiced them louder. He had sensed that Anakin was struggling.

If only he'd realized just how serious that struggle was.

"Padmè?" he whispered, hoping she was still awake.

"Hmmm?" she mumbled from upon the Dark Lord's shoulder.

His voice croaked under his barely holding restraint. "How bad is he?"

The former senator yawned again, still unmoving from her resting place. "What do you mean?"

"I mean ... his injuries," he stammered, struggling to remain strong. "How bad are they?"

Two dark, hazel eyes popped open, practically boring holes into him from across the sofa. There was a sudden and unexpected amount of anger hidden behind them. Drawing her lips tight, still keeping her head firmly planted on her husband's shoulder, she went silent. So many emotions flickered from her. Heartache, disappointment, fear. But the most potent was anger. An anger that was wholly and solely directed at him.

She sighed and closed her eyes, returning to her mission of sleep. As her body started to visibly relax, she took another deep breath.

"He wouldn't want me discussing that with you," she reprimanded. "Maybe in time, you can both find a way to accept what has happened and move on. Learn how to trust each other again. Then he might even show you himself."

That was just it though, wasn't it? Could they ever trust each other again?

Part of him screamed in protest, arguing that Anakin had chosen his fate the moment he sold himself. Solidifying it with every blood curdling strike of his lightsaber at the temple. Slaughtering all but a few of those he used to consider to be family.

At least they were the closest thing to a family that Obi-wan had ever known, eclipsed only by the duracrete bond that he and Anakin had once shared. His troubled padawan had been the outcast up until the Clone Wars, _that_ he was fully aware of. Constantly judged by his peers and treated differently by the Jedi Council. Unfairly so in some respects, justly so in others. Kept under watchful eye until they realized they needed him. Yet never – even amidst the ensuing chaos of war – ever fully trusting him.

A point that Mace Windu had so blatantly admitted on the shuttle as they escorted Master Yoda to his ship destined for Kashyyk.

Leaving Anakin alone with Chancellor Palpatine and the Korun Master had been a mistake. Of all of the Masters at the temple, he was the last one he should've left him with. Especially considering how disillusioned Anakin had become with the Order after begrudgingly undertaking his final assignment. If only he'd had the foresight to speak up. To push for Anakin's assistance in finding the infamous cyborg General Grievous and taking him down.

But he was dwelling on the past again, Qui-gon's words once more coming to mind. _Keep your mind in the here and now, Obi-wan, where it belongs._

And that's exactly what he vowed to do from this moment on. To listen _only_ to the will of the force. To whatever end it deemed necessary. As of right now, his path was unclear, but one thing was for certain ...

Vader had been meant to find him. Their destinies again entwined. And as much as their troubled past had scarred him, he would endure and perhaps even find some semblance of inner peace in the process.

That is, if Vader didn't kill him first.

* * *

 _ALDERAAN: BALANA VALLEY: HOPE ONE RESISTANCE HEADQUARTERS_

Bail Organa walked between the amassed star fighters and battered freighters, flanked by Ferus and Caleb. Pilots garbed in orange coloured flight suits darted in and around them, hurrying amidst the ships still fuelling up. It was all systems go in the secret valley base, ever since Darth Vader and his battalion had made an appearance.

The Alderaanian Viceroy wasn't taking any more chances, not now knowing that the Empire was onto them. So far there'd been no further action taken on their part, but that wasn't to say there wouldn't be.

"Yes, Mon. I am well aware of the risks," Bail said into his wrist-comm. "But we cannot afford to delay this relocation any longer."

" _Has there been any news on Senator Amidala's whereabouts?"_ the Chandrilan's voice echoed.

He shook his head. "Not yet." He stopped by a reinforced glass wall and activated the security panel. The screen door slid open and he stepped aside, gesturing for Ferus and Caleb to enter.

" _And yet you remain certain of her potential allegiance?"_

Following the two Jedi into the main hangar, he huffed. "Yes, I am certain," he confirmed. "As I said before, she just needs time to sort out a few personal matters beforehand. She _will_ join us."

The two Jedi stood by the docking ramp of the Tantive III, waiting for the Viceroy to board. As he moved passed them, they quickly turned and followed him inside.

" _You know, there are more and more reports of Jedi sightings coursing throughout the Senate?"_ she continued. _"All supposedly originating from the Outer-rim territories."_

The trio continued through the grey cladded corridors until they reached the control room, all taking their seats behind Captain Antilles and his co-pilot. Bail signalled the Captain to commence pre-flight check. "Word has reached me of one on the farming moon of Raada. I have, as of yet, been unable to make contact." He buckled up his restraints and prepared for take-off.

" _You're not going to get involved there as well?"_

"I shall do what I must, Mon. It will take more than a few disgruntled miners and starpilots to overthrow the Emperor. The Jedi are our best hope."

" _And what of Darth Vader?"_ she asked, her voice hushed ever so slightly. _"If rumours are anything to go by, he's Emperor Palpatine's assassin. I've heard that it's his own personal mission to seek out and eliminate all Jedi survivors."_

Bail looked between Ferus and Caleb, both trying to abstain from eavesdropping on their conversation. "I have reason to believe that his attentions are currently otherwise occupied. Look, I know you don't approve, and that I understand. But we may not get another chance at this. The Massassi group contacted me several days ago. Apparently one of their ships containing their latest kyber haul was intercepted by Vader. All crew are presumed to be dead. It's only going to get worse."

" _The Massassi are lawless mercenaries, Bail. They are not to be trusted."_

Captain Antilles spun around, giving a curt nod.

He nodded back in approval, signalling for them to depart. "Even so, at this point we can't afford to knock back support. Lawless or otherwise. I will contact you once we reach their headquarters and let you know what we find."

" _Very well. Until then. For the Republic."_

"For the Republic. Organa out." Bail sat back in his seat and sighed. "Take us out Captain, the rest will follow when ready."

"Right away sir, course set for Yavin 4. Opening main overhead hangar doors," Captain Antilles announced, initiating take off.

The sublight thrusters rumbled into life, lifting the corvette out of the secluded hangar. Once clear of the mountainous terrain, it angled for the clouds and shot off into the atmosphere.

• • •

Streaks of white and blue light streamed passed the command room viewport. Walls of cladded grey surrounded the large circular conference table. The Tantive III had been in hyperspace for just short of an hour before the two Jedi had finally decided to up and leave the main cabin. If what the Viceroy and Captain had estimated was accurate, they were all in for a very long and potentially dangerous journey to the Outer-rim.

Ferus wasn't completely sure he agreed with this sudden decision to move the still growing Rebellion from Alderaan. Reports had been constantly coming back with evidence of the Imperial fleet being on the hunt, with hundreds of new star destroyers now deployed across the galaxy.

Resting his head on his hand, he flicked through the feed on his datapad. An exasperated sigh cut through the muted silence. He lifted his eyes to Caleb, leaning on the viewport bulkhead. The young man seemed deep in thought, with his arms folded and his gaze lost in the dazzling light show outside.

"You seem troubled," Ferus said, turning off his pad.

Caleb glanced toward him before returning his attention to the window. He huffed again, slumping further into the bulkhead. "I'm worried about her," he muttered.

"About Jaina?"

The young man nodded. "Yes. I wish she'd come with us."

Ferus sighed, slowly rising from his seat and walking over to join him. "She's in good hands. Obi-wan will keep her safe," he said, placing his hand upon his shoulder.

"I hope so." He huffed again. "The Viceroy sure seems confident of Mrs Skywalker's loyalty to his cause."

"But you're not convinced?"

Caleb shook his head then pulled away, trudging over to the conference table and dropping down into one of the seats. "No," he said, retrieving his lightsaber and laying it on the table. "Her behaviour seemed ... oh, I don't know ... _odd_ I suppose."

"Odd?" Ferus asked, heading back to sit down beside him. "In what sense?"

The lightsaber rolled back and forth between the young Jedi's hands, rattling with each turn. He huffed again, obviously battling to voice his thoughts on the matter. "I'm not sure. It's just a feeling," he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. He turned his deep blue eyes from the rolling weapon, a slight frown forming. "Don't you think she was remarkably calm for someone claiming to be a prisoner?" he asked. "She looked as impeccably groomed as any of the other Senators there, not to mention the relationship she appeared to have with that trooper."

Ferus stroked his chin. "He did seem to listen to her," he mused, trying to remember the event.

"Almost like he was taking orders from her," Caleb stated, reaffirming his suspicions.

"You do realise what you are suggesting, don't you?" Ferus said, shifting forward in his seat.

With another shrug of his shoulders the young Jedi returned to the lightsaber, once again rolling it back and forth along the table. He huffed, snatching it mid-roll and yanking it back to replace it on his belt. "I'm just saying that I don't trust her," he snapped. "The way she behaved when she was at the Alderaanian palace ... how she reacted when she got her hands on her daughter ... the way Master Kenobi behaved when he saw her at Tatooine and the way that Sith practically ignored everything else when he laid his masked eyes upon her."

The older Jedi watched as the young man pushed out of his seat and started to pace around the room. He was making some valid points. The real question was, how much of this was actual reflection and how much was born of his own insecurities. "I can't blame you for feeling this way, Caleb. I never trusted her 'Chosen One' husband either."

Caleb stopped pacing and spun around, folding his arms tight. "You didn't trust Master Skywalker?" he asked in disbelief. "Why?"

He shook his head, drifting back into heavily buried past memories. "He was arrogant and vindictive, convinced he was better than all of us." His gaze locked to the table as he uncomfortably reminisced. "I told him I would watch him. Master Kenobi may have been blind to him ... but I wasn't."

Never hearing of this story before, the young Jedi quickly returned to his seat and settled in, hoping for more. "What happened?"

Ferus pushed his hand up through the white blonde streak in his dark hair and sighed. "Everything was a competition to Skywalker. Every mission, every decision. He viewed them all as a way of asserting dominance, trying to prove how much better he was than the rest of us."

"Is that why you left the order?"

He shook his head and sighed. "No," he said distantly, his eyes drifting away. "I left after Darra died."

"Darra?" Caleb asked, leaning closer. "I've never heard of her. How did she die?"

With a grunt, Ferus pushed out of his chair and headed for the viewport, trying to hide the guilt, shame and anger he'd held onto over the many years since leaving the Jedi Temple. After a brief quiet moment, he took a deep breath and continued. "Darra was one of the padawans that came with us on the mission to Korriban. She died helping me. I haven't spoken a word of this in years, and to be frank, I'm not sure I am ready to now."

"What does it have to do with Master Skywalker?" Caleb asked, joining him by the window.

Ferus turned to him, his eyes heavily shadowed by the deep creases suddenly knotted in his brow. "It was his fault the lightsaber malfunctioned in the first place. He knew I had fixed it for Tru, he saw me doing it ... although he denied it. His anger at my helping Tru overthrew his sense of reason! He _knew_ the flux aperture needed to be readjusted, and still he said nothing."

Caleb stepped back seeing the older Jedi starting to get worked up. None of what he was saying made any sense. He didn't know any of these people he was talking about. He'd never met any of them, even Skywalker he'd only seen briefly – tutoring the odd lightsaber class – besides all of the press and holoreports that was.

His master had carried this burden for a long, long time going by his uncharacteristic outburst. Seeing how uncomfortable the older Jedi had become, Caleb decided to try and shift the focus of their conversation slightly. "Do you really think he died at the temple as the reports suggest?"

Ferus calmed down somewhat. The lines on his face eased, and the intensity in his deep brown eyes lessened to a dim sparkle. He placed a heavy hand on Caleb's shoulder and sighed. "I hope not, but then again, Anakin never was the type to simply disappear."

He started to walk to the table and sat back down, all evidence of his frustrations now gone. "As for his _wife_ ... Senator Amidala was one of the most vocal politicians opposed to the war. Rumour has it that both she and Bail Organa circulated and presented a petition, signed by some two thousand other Senators, demanding the Chancellor revoke his emergency powers shortly prior to the Empire's birth."

"So you agree with the Viceroy?" Caleb asked. "You think she will join and support the Rebellion?"

"Not at all, young padawan," Ferus replied, clasping his hands together on the table. "All I am saying, is that it would be well within her character to do so. The truth of the matter, however, we will just have to wait and see."

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: HYPERSPACE_

 _The first warming rays crept over the mountains beyond the lake. Tweets and chirps of distant Varykino wildlife mingled with the rustling of leaves in the gentle morning breeze. It was so peaceful._

 _With his arms resting at his lower back, Anakin listened to the welcoming embrace of the force. Breathing it in, in all its splendour. Felt it bristle through his long wavy hair and merrily dance across his face. Meditation came easier these days, now that his much troubled past was long behind him._

 _He cherished these moments, standing on the balcony where he stole his first kiss, knowing that his beloved family was still fast asleep in their beds._

" _Daddy, what are you doing?"_

 _He smiled and turned to face his daughter. She was nearly four now and already so much like her mother. Leia had Padmè's eyes, a deep warm chocolate colour filled with emotion. "I_ was _meditating, little Angel," he said, with a soft chuckle._

" _Oh," she said slowly creeping closer._

" _It's alright," he said dropping to one knee. He held his arms wide, and smiled. "Why don't you come join me? We can watch the sunrise together."_

 _Leia's face lit up. She pulled her white dressing gown in tight around her nightdress and ran to her father, throwing herself into his arms._

 _Anakin pulled her to his chest and stood up, wrapping his black robe around her._

" _You're leaving today, aren't you?" Leia asked._

" _I'm afraid so, sweetheart," he answered, carrying her over to the balustrade._

" _Why?"_

" _The Jedi council has called me back. Uncle Obi-wan said that it was very important."_

" _Is Uncle Obi coming to pick you up?"_

" _Yes, he will ..."_

BEEP, BEEP.

BEEP, BEEP.

BEEP, BEEP.

Crystal blue eyes fluttered open behind crimson lenses. The steady rasp in and out of the respirator deafening his senses. He wanted to rub his eyes, to dislodge the weariness. To reach up and scratch the persistent itch on his scalp.

Vader gazed down at Leia curled up in his arm, then to Padmè asleep on his shoulder. He didn't remember going to sleep. It was not something that normally came easy to him. And after such a fanciful dream, he suddenly wished he hadn't. It made actual reality that much harder to swallow.

BEEP, BEEP.

BEEP, BEEP.

The beeping. His comm-unit must have been what disturbed him. The problem was, he had no way of answering it without waking his two precious Angels.

A gentle snore filtered through his helmet and he tilted his head to look at the door. Apparently Kenobi had also succumbed to exhaustion, stretched out on the sofa with his brown robe wrapped around him. _Uncle Obi-wan indeed,_ he mused. Oddly enough, the normal surge of anger that usually followed was surprisingly dulled, dampened somewhat by the residual images of his dream.

BEEP, BEEP.

BEEP, BEEP.

Whoever was trying to reach him sure was persistent. Vader leant back, closed his eyes and groaned. Reaching out with the Force he gently eased his wife from his shoulder, shuffled forward to stand and then laid her head back down on the cushion. Kneeling down beside her, he carefully tucked their sleeping daughter under her arm and sighed.

Watching Padmè sleep used to be one of his most favourite pastimes. Back on Coruscant he would lay awake for hours simply watching her chest rise and fall beneath the sheets; listening to the adorable little noises she made. He pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Without warning, his eyes suddenly locked on to the shiny black leather of his glove. His ears tuned in to the repetitious hiss of his respirator. He wanted so desperately to kiss her, to show her just how much he still loved her. But he couldn't.

Before it was the Jedi who stood between them, whereas now, it was him. Rising to his feet, he listened to the whir and grind of the servo-motors in his prosthetic legs. Felt the agonizing throb surrounding his chest implant. Glared in disgust at the scarlet red lenses tainting his vision.

The sleeping Jedi groaned on the sofa and he immediately snapped around to stare at him.

This was all his fault. _He_ did this to him. _He_ condemned him to this walking tomb.

Vader raised his hand in the air, fingers trembling as he slowly clawed them into position. He wanted to choke him. To make him pay for what he did to him on Mustafar. To make him suffer, the way he suffered.

He could do it ... right now ... while he was sleeping.

It would be all too easy.

Seconds ticked by, his elevated hand aimed at Kenobi still shaking.

What was he waiting for?

BEEP, BEEP.

BEEP, BEEP.

Grinding his teeth together, he lowered his arm and stared at his former master. His very existence insulted him. Laughed at him. Chanted inside his head that he still wasn't strong enough.

Disgusted and confused, he clenched both fists and charged for the door.

• • •

Vader stood silent by the bridge viewport, his legs wide and arms tightly clasped at his back. Proximity alarms wailed and the Exactor's crew called out to each other from their stations. They were now making their final approach and preparing to exit hyperspace.

But the Sith Lord was light years away, his mind busily rehashing what had recently transpired in the suite. He could still see his former master's throat gently pulsing as he slept. Could feel the echoes of his force presence hovering around him. The fragile bond they'd once shared slowly blossoming back into life.

He hated him so much. Hated him for turning against him. Hated him for abandoning him. Hated him for defeating him. Hated him for leaving him to burn alive while he screamed in pain. Hated him for not allowing him to help his mother before it was too late.

But more than all that – more than the hatred, more than the betrayal – he hated that despite all of this, when faced with the perfect opportunity to strike ... he hesitated.

He ... Darth Vader ... Sith Lord ... Supreme Commander of the Imperial Armed Forces ... fallen Jedi Knight and sworn servant to the Emperor ... couldn't bring himself to kill Obi-wan Kenobi.

Hundreds of other Jedi had fallen before him, outmatched and outplayed by the sheer might of his power. Slaughtered by his own hand, their lifeless corpses left scattered amongst the temple ruins.

But not Obi-wan.

What was happening to him? He'd been so convinced that ending his former Master's life would put an end to at least some of his suffering. That by killing him he would somehow be free from the constant torment of his failure.

Now? He wasn't so sure. But he knew Padmè would never forgive him.

Padmè.

He remembered back to when she'd disguised herself back in the palace. Dressed in his old Jedi robe, holding a lightsaber in her hand. Smiling in the cerulean light, a defiant sparkle glittering in her eyes.

The memory replayed.

" _Padmè?" he growled. "Is that you?" He watched as a small, delicate ivory hand lifted to pull back the black hood, exposing the long wet braid tucked inside. She spun to face him._

 _He breathed a momentary sigh of relief, holstering his weapon and collecting himself. "What were you thinking?" he hissed, folding his arms. "I could've killed you!"_

 _She pulled back the sleeves of his robe and dropped the lightsaber back down in the crate, before smiling triumphantly up at him. "But you didn't," she said. "You, my love, an almighty Sith Lord, hesitated."_

" _WHAT?!"_

 _She chuckled and walked toward him, her smile unwavering, hazel eyes sparkling. "Admit it. You thought a Jedi had broken into your chamber, was waiting to kill you ... and you hesitated."_

 _He dropped his hands heavily onto her shoulders and brought his mask down in-line with her face. "Do you have any idea what could've just happened?" he asked, his tone fierce and dominating. "What I might have done to you?"_

 _She met his stare confidently, trying to make out his eyes behind the scarlet lenses. "You did exactly what I expected you to. You are unsure of yourself, it's blatantly obvious. You don't know what you want right now."_

" _How can you say that? What makes you think I'm not just showing you what you want to see? What makes you so certain?"_

 _She smiled and reached forward to grip the fabric of his tabard. "Because I know you Anakin. You can try and hide who you are from everyone else, but you can't hide from me. I saw the light in your eyes, it's still there inside you."_

Vader sighed, relaxing his stance ever-so-slightly. One solitary tear slipped down along his sunken cheek, the wet warmth tingling his skin as it neared his clenched jaw. There was no denying what was happening, no refuting the evidence of his actions. Surrounded by everyone whose lives he used to put before his own, he was losing the battle. The once fragile candle, that his Angel had so innocently coaxed into existence, was now burning as bright as any torch. The luminescent flame licking at every dark corner of his being.

In the back of his mind the shadowy voice whispered: _he will kill her._ If his Master sensed his confliction he would without a doubt hunt them down to every corner of the galaxy, not stopping until his beloved Angel took her final breath.

Somehow he had to find the strength to suffocate it. To successfully bury the light before it had a chance to do any real damage. Only the dark side was strong enough to help him destroy his Master.

Only then would they finally be free.

"My Lord?"

"Yes Captain, what is it?" he answered nonchalantly, not moving to look at the officer standing behind him.

"The fleet has dropped out of lightspeed and settled into orbit. We are awaiting your orders, Sir."

Vader opened his eyes behind the mask. He'd obviously been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the shift. But sure enough, instead of seeing iridescent ribbons of light covering the viewport, millions of tiny stars sat twinkling in the distance. And nestled between them was a small bluish green planet: Dromund Kaas.

"Deploy the probe droids and have them conduct a full sweep of the planet's surface," he ordered, folding his arms over his chest. "I want to know exactly what we're up against."

"As you wish My Lord," the Captain acknowledged, quickly bowing then turning to walk away.

Vader whirled to face him. "And Captain."

The officer nervously about-faced. "Yes, Lord Vader?"

"Instruct the fleet to deactivate all cloaking devices and return to standard comm frequencies."

"Yes Sir."

He took one final look through the viewport, then spun on his heel and charged from the bridge. They had successfully made it to Dromund Kaas, now there was only one thing left to do before venturing down to the planet's surface.

To contact his Master.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 _Sorry for the long wait._

 _This is the second last chapter and there will be an epilogue._

 _Thank you so much for your follows/favourites, they make this so rewarding._

 _Quick shout out to:_ _ **RyuuShadow, Anakinsgatorgurl, Guest, Guest, Sfloresf, Stacy, Guest**_ _and_ _ **Earthwalker**_ _._

 _Thank you so much for your kind words and taking the time out of your busy lives to review. You guys are the best._

 _I hope you enjoy this one and as always..._

 _MTFBWY._


	39. Chapter 36: Inopinatum Morsus

**Chapter 36: Inopinatum Morsus**

 **-PART ONE-**

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE_

To foresee the future.

The death of his Master, the fall of the Republic, the annihilation of the Jedi and the rise of the Empire.

Results of years of hard work and patience, carefully manipulating events from the shadows until all of the pieces finally came together. Events that had ultimately hinged on the successful seduction and corruption of the Jedi's chosen one.

That still hinged on him to this day. There was still so much that needed to be done. He'd felt certain that releasing his new apprentice to deal with Naboo was the correct decision at the time.

Now, standing in the darkness, watching the insignificant pawns of Coruscant as they carried out their pathetic little lives from his throne room window, Darth Sidious contemplated the future.

His visions had become clouded – obscured by uncertainty. With no news on Lord Vader's whereabouts, he was left analysing and over thinking every tiny tremor he sensed through the Force. And there had been so many to ponder. Whispers of Jedi sightings were rampant throughout the Senate, igniting hope into the hearts of those whom would one day stand against him.

 _Hope_ that his apprentice was supposed to be out there taking care of.

This was when he needed Vader the most. To unleash him on the galaxy with his bloodied saber in hand, finishing off what they started with Order 66. Hunting down the surviving Jedi and eradicating them from their Empire.

Was that what he was currently doing? It was difficult to know for sure, seeing that their last conversation was so abruptly interrupted by static interference. He wanted to believe it and in the short spans of time prior to his confrontation on Naboo, he would have. But circumstances had changed, his impetuous little wife inconveniently back in the picture, gradually and determinedly eroding all of the fruits of his efforts, drawing the man inside the suit back out of hiding.

He would have to exercise a great deal of caution in dealing with her. Vader was yet to realise his true potential. Blind as to how powerful he had veritably become.

An ignorance that _he_ did not have the luxury of indulging.

The transceiver alarmed from his command desk, signalling an incoming call. Tearing his gaze away from the cityscape, he stalked over to activate it.

"Yes Admiral, what is it?" Sidious sneered into the comm.

" _My Lord, we have an incoming transmission from the Exactor,"_ the male officer announced. _"It's Lord Vader, Sir. He demands to speak with you."_

"Good. Put him through."

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: DROMUND KAAS_

Vader knelt subserviently on the holopod, his senses stretching out into the Force. He could feel his Master, even from this distance, and it was anything but comforting. As attuned as his senses were, they were nothing in comparison to those of his Master.

A disturbing thought indeed.

Sidious remained silent, his ghostly blue holo-image hovering threateningly in the air before him, his gnarly, twisted features knotted into a tightly compressed scowl. He felt his inquisition, the distant probing at his psyche digging for information. Easing his shields back just a fraction, he focussed on remaining indifferent.

" _Lord Vader,"_ the Emperor purred, his withered tone laden with annoyance, _"I trust you have a good explanation for your extended absence."_

"Yes, My Master." This was going to test him. Lying was not a skill he was overly proficient in and as such he had already decided on simply bending the truth.

" _Well? I'm waiting."_

"We were tracking two Jedi throughout the Outer-rim. Unwilling to risk detection, I ordered the fleet into stealth mode."

" _And?"_

"Fortunately for them, they escaped, Master," he replied, dipping his helmeted head marginally lower. "The crew are currently mapping out their last known trajectory."

Vader felt something begin to stir between them – a rising anger festering – but it was just as quickly hidden away.

" _I see. And where is your fleet now?"_

He drew on the Force, using it to keep his emotions in check. In the presence of his Master, the Dark side came easily, wrapping around him like a thick security blanket, its steel-cold embrace steadying his racing heart and clearing his mind. He took a quick moment to absorb its inherent power before continuing. "We are sitting in orbit over Dromund Kaas and preparing to head to the planet's surface."

" _Dromund Kaas?"_

The revelation seemed to surprise him. There was a definite undercurrent of shock hidden behind his words. But why? What was so important about this long forgotten planet? Perhaps there was more to his being guided here than he had initially suspected.

"Yes Master."

Another contemplative pause. Sidious pulled his head deeper into the shadow of his hood, his burning eyes gleaming in the darkness.

" _Did your search for the Jedi lead you there?"_

Vader lifted his head, staring directly at the holoprojection. "No Master."

" _Then what?"_

"The Force," he stated matter-of-factly.

Anger surged between them again, only this time it was allowed to flow freely along their bond. Vader felt it, knowing full well, that if he were in fact kneeling before his Master in person, the lightning would not be far away.

" _Your orders were to locate your wife and bring her to me, Lord Vader. Not to go traipsing off into the galaxy, chasing down your own foolish crusade."_

Vader dipped his head back to the floor. "Yes ... My Master," he groaned in submission.

" _Speaking of your wife, I seem to recall you saying that you'd found her. How is she after her little escapade?"_

He had expected this. After leaving the bridge, he'd returned to his chamber and contemplated several possible outcomes. He needed a way of protecting her, a safeguard against his Master's vengeance, and he had come to one final conclusion. She now possessed something he wanted, and what better way to ensure her safety than to use his own malevolent desires against him? All he had to do was fulfil his role as the ever dutiful apprentice, following his orders to the letter, and their baby growing inside her would keep her safe.

"She is doing well, considering ..." Vader baited, allowing his words to trail off.

" _Considering?"_

Bait taken. He swallowed down the dryness in his throat, the suffocating tightness that arose whenever he discussed Padmè. "She is ... _with_ _child_ , My Master."

Across the galaxy, perched upon his angular throne, Emperor Palpatine leaned forward, his discerning glare penetrating the hazy blue mass that was his apprentice.

" _And you are_ certain _of this?"_

"Aleria has confirmed it," he rumbled quietly. No matter how much he knew this was the correct decision, it still didn't sit right. He kept his eyes to the floor, fighting to hold his nerve. He suddenly felt as though he'd betrayed her. And perhaps in a way, he had.

" _Bring her in, I wish to speak with her."_

Vader lifted his gaze, his breath caught in his chest. "But ... she is sleeping, Master."

" _Then go_ wake _her, Lord Vader. Unless, of course, you would prefer for me to come there in person."_

"As you wish," he rumbled in resignation. There was no backing out of this now. He pushed himself up and tugged his cape into position, then with a curt bow, turned and left his chamber.

Padmè and Kenobi were both still fast asleep when he entered the guest quarters. Someone had obviously been out to return Leia to her crib, because she was no longer where he'd left her. Trying his hardest to stay quiet, he slowly moved to the couch and knelt down beside his wife. Placing his flesh and blood hand upon her forehead and taking her hand in his gloved prosthetic, he stretched out with the force. _"Padmè ... Angel ... wake up, My love."_

Her eyelids twitched, but remained closed. "Ani?" she mumbled, gently squeezing his hand.

He glanced at the Jedi, then back to her. _"I need you to wake up, Padmè,"_ he whispered through the Force _._

She squeezed his hand tighter and slowly opened her eyes. For a brief moment he could've sworn she'd seen his expression behind the mask. It was as if her penetrating eyes had successfully pierced straight through his armour, sweeping across his obscured face in curiosity then deepening as realisation dawned. Silently taking both of her hands, Vader gently pulled her to her feet, not missing the questioning glance she shot the still slumbering Jedi.

Not wanting to speak lest he disturb Kenobi, he simply nodded and went about leading her from the suite, closing the door behind them.

"Where are we going?" Padmè asked with a yawn, groggily following her husband's lead.

He turned his mask to her then back to the corridor, not breaking his stride. "I am taking you to my chamber. He wants to speak with you."

He felt her eyes upon him, sided with a sudden surge of anger. She abruptly yanked on his hand and pulled him to a stop. Tilting her head off to the side, she glared up at him as he spun around.

"Wait. _Who_ wants to speak with me?" she demanded.

"You already know _who_ , Padmè," he growled, unease slowly worming its way through his veins. "It is unwise to keep him waiting."

Her brows dropped into a heavy frown, wiping every last trace of sleep from her face. He knew she wouldn't be happy, had expected it the very moment he left to wake her. She was just so emotional lately, overreacting to every insignificant little thing. Tears one minute, argumentative the next. For a fleeting second, he caught himself feeling rather thankful he'd spent so much time away during her first pregnancy; especially if this was anything to go by. Force only knew how he would've handled the stress of that on top of the Clone Wars.

And the Clone Wars had _ruined_ him.

"I don't understand," she snapped, quickly pulling her hand away and folding her arms. "I thought we were on communication silence. Isn't that what you said? How is it that he has suddenly managed to contact you?"

Vader folded his own arms in kind, pulling his back straight. "He didn't," he growled lowly. "I contacted him."

"You _what_? _Why_ , Anakin? Why would you _do_ that?"

Why couldn't she just do as he asked for once? Just once. Was that too much to ask for? He rolled his eyes behind the mask and squeezed his jaw tight, save him saying something that would _really_ upset her. Dropping both hands heavily upon her bare shoulders, he lowered his head inline with her uptight face. " _Padmè,_ this _is not_ the time. Now, you can either come with me willingly, or I can pick you up and carry you there _myself._ "

The fire in her eyes burned out. She knew he wasn't messing around anymore, he could feel the waves of disappointment and confusion rolling off her through their bond. It actually hurt, knowing that he had now verbally beaten her down, squashing the very spark that he always found so irresistible. Maybe he wasn't changing as much as he first thought.

"Fine, I'll go," she said. "But this conversation isn't over ... _My_ _Lord_."

It took two full cycles of his respirator before he managed to bite back the flurry of retorts threatening to fly from his mouth. Releasing her shoulders, he turned and strode for his door, his gloved hand hovering over the security panel. As she walked up to stand alongside him, he hesitated. "Whatever you do, do _not_ think of Luke and Leia. I will do my best to shield you from him, but you must try and keep your feelings hidden."

"Are you implying that he can read my mind?" she asked.

He turned back to the panel and entered his code. "I _am_ _not_ implying it."

The door to his chamber slid open and he held his hand up, gesturing for her to enter. She lifted her head high and stalked inside. Vader followed and closed the door, being careful to stay very close so as to show his support.

The blue light of the holo-projector lit up the otherwise darkened quarters, covering every wall and floor panel with the same cerulean hue of her husband's old Jedi lightsaber. Padmè swallowed, and stepped onto the holopod, vaguely aware of her state of undress. Her husband moved alongside her and immediately dropped to one knee, his head bent forward in total submission. She couldn't believe it. She'd never seen him actually conversing with Palpatine in this manner before, and seeing it now made her realise just how dominated and controlled he truly was.

" _Ah, my dear Padmè,"_ Palpatine sneered as his wrinkled face rezzed into focus. _"It is so good to see you again."_

She glanced down to Anakin, his body heat radiating on her side, seeing he still had not moved and then back up to the holo-projector. "I wish I could say the same for you, _Emperor._ "

Sidious cackled. _"I'm not sure if he's told you, but Lord Vader was rather distressed when you escaped. He worked himself up into such a frenzy, that I had to shock_ _him back to his senses. I trust I won't be needing to do that again in the near future."_

Still Anakin didn't budge. Surely he wasn't going to stay kneeling like that for the entire conversation, was he? Padmè glared back up at the ghostly face. "Escapee is usually a term applied to one who has fled imprisonment. I was unaware that that was the case. I left with Senator Organa on official business, there was nothing unusual about it. As for you torturing my husband, you do that regularly as a means of beating him into submission, do not try and deflect the blame for that onto me."

" _Ah yes, Bail Organa of Alderaan, he is one of your_ friends _, isn't he? Lord Vader and I are both well apprised of his extra-curricular activities, as I have no doubt you are."_

"I don't know what you are talking about."

" _Yes ... you do. It wouldn't surprise me if he asked you to join his efforts. In which case, I want you to agree. Then you can report to both Lord Vader and myself on his dealings."_

Padmè once again looked to Anakin. She thought that he might have said something – anything – in response to what Palpatine was saying. Instead, the only noise that came from him was the constant rhythmic hiss in and out of his mechanical breathing. Turning back to the transmission she squared off her shoulders and adopted her most regal stance, not caring about her silken white nightgown any longer.

"And if I refuse?" she demanded.

Palpatine leaned forward, his twisted mouth morphing into a sinister sneer. " _Then I shall have no choice but to allow your husband to deal with the traitorous Viceroy in whatever manner he sees fit. I know for a fact he would thoroughly enjoy it."_

She tried to suppress the unwelcome shiver that surfaced from that horrifying thought. Or perhaps it was from the sudden chill rippling through the air from beside her. Bile rose in her throat. It was truly sickening to know how badly Anakin wanted to harm the Alderaanian Viceroy. "I don't appear to have much of a choice. But if I do this, what do I get in return?"

" _The protection and support of the two most powerful men in the galaxy. The freedom to come and go as you please. The privilege of being granted continued access to_ my apprentice _. All of which can be revoked, should you decide to change your mind."_

Anakin's breathing suddenly shifted, the respirator oddly clicking and skipping a beat. The chill in the air, amplified. She looked down at him, only to see both gloved hands now balled tightly into fists upon the floor. The veiled threat was clear to the both of them. She either did this, or Palpatine would make sure they never saw each other again. Padmè sighed and turned her eyes back to the holoprojector. "Alright, I'll do it. But I'll need my own ship. I can't turn up at Alderaan in a Star Destroyer."

A rumbling growl sounded from the floor beside her. Anakin didn't seem to like that idea very much.

" _Good. Lord Vader,"_ Palpatine commanded, and the black mask lifted to look up at him. _"You will ensure that Padmè is properly taken care of. See to it that she is given her own ship and security detail."_

"Yes ... My Master," he ground out, once more lowering his head back to the floor.

"Security detail? And how exactly is a contingent of clone troopers following my every move supposed to help me?" Padmè protested, throwing her hands on her hips. "Bail Organa is far too observant for that, he will suspect something is up the moment he sees them."

" _Padmè_ ," Vader warned, tilting his head to look at her.

Palpatine glanced between them. He sighed and leaned back. _"Whilst I can appreciate your concerns regarding this matter and I trust Lord Vader will agree, that your safety is paramount. After all, it would be a terrible tragedy if the two of you were to lose yet another of your precious offspring as the result of an otherwise preventable incident."_

Padmè turned immediately to glare at her kneeling husband, who met her stare with wordless silence. She fought down the urge to demand answers, not wanting to give Palpatine the satisfaction of seeing them argue. Unfortunately her body language and facial expression failed to participate.

" _It appears the two of you have a great deal to discuss,"_ the Emperor purred with amusement. _"So, I shall leave you both to it. Lord Vader, I expect a full report the instant you return from the planet."_

"Yes, My Master."

" _As for you,_ Senator Amidala ... _I look forward to seeing you at the next Senate meeting."_

Padmè didn't take her eyes off her husband. "I assure you, Palpatine _..._ the pleasure will be all yours _,_ " she spat back.

The holoprojector rezzed out, plunging them both into a sudden awkward silence. Vader rose from the floor, fists clenched and body rigid. He didn't dare look at his wife. He _couldn't_. The thought of her wanting to leave him thrumming in his head. His heart was pounding like a drum. The white-hot, dark-side fuelled, adrenaline rushing through his veins doing nothing to abate the simmering rage swelling inside him.

"I can't believe you!" Padmè yelled from behind him.

He didn't turn around.

"Here I was thinking – hoping – that you were coming around! And then you go and betray me to him like that!"

His vision started to pulsate in sync with his heart. He squeezed his hands tighter. Clenched his jaw. He couldn't shake the thought. She wanted to leave him. After everything he'd done. After how hard he'd been trying. None of it mattered. Nothing mattered.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

But he couldn't. He couldn't even turn around for fear of hurting her. She needed to go. He needed a chance to think, to settle, to get his emotions back under control.

"Get ... out ... Padmè," he hissed, keeping his eyes glued to the port window in front of him.

"No Anakin! We are going to talk about this now!"

He could feel the muscles in his neck constricting. The radiating heat inside his mask, suffocating. Any second now he was going to lose it. The annoying voice chanting in his head.

 _She wants her own ship so she can leave you. She lied to you. She doesn't love you. She doesn't want you. She only pretended to love you, so she could use you to find your children. How could she possibly love you? You're twisted, crippled and deformed, more machine now than man._

Barely restraining himself, he waved his hand to open the chamber door and whirled on her. "I _told_ you ... to get ... _out_ ," he snarled. Shoving his hand into the air, he force pushed her through the door.

Padmè suddenly flew back, landing on her backside in the middle of the passage. It wasn't a strong push, just enough to launch her from his chamber. It didn't even hurt really. Shaking her head, she stared up at the open door, just in time to see it slam closed. The initial shock of being thrown out of his quarters quickly wore off. Pushing to her feet, she stormed back to the door and pounded on it. "Anakin! You let me back in there this instant, we're not finished."

She stopped pounding, listening to his boots thundering around on the floor inside. A strangled howl ripped through the silence accompanied by some odd whistling noise. She went to press her ear to the door.

 _CRACK!_

She jumped back.

Something suddenly crashed into it, the impact so forceful, it nearly wrenched the door from its track. Whatever it was shattered, rattling and clunking as the pieces fell to the floor just inside.

"FINE!" she yelled, stomping her foot and throwing her hands into the air. "STAY IN THERE!"

Muttering her frustrations, she stormed down the passage to return to her suite. Obi-wan was awake when she returned, standing in the middle of the room and staring at her with his arms tightly folded.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," he said.

Padmè glared back. "Then don't!" she snapped. This was hardly the time for his holier-than-thou attitude. She charged past him, disappearing into the kitchenette to make a caff. Turning on the replicator, she impatiently rapped her fingers upon her folded elbow and waited for it to start up.

"Well, whatever just happened seems to have seriously upset him," Obi-wan commented from the open doorway. "I can feel it from here."

She glanced over her shoulder, seeing the older Jedi leaning casually against the wall. "Good," she said, returning her attention to the whistling replicator. "After what he did, he deserves it."

He sighed and dragged his hand up through his hair. "What's he done _this_ time?" he asked wearily.

The replicator beeped and Padmè pulled the steaming hot caff from its cabinet. "Did _you_ know he was talking to Palpatine?" she asked, keeping her back to the Jedi and carefully blowing the steam away.

"No. If you hadn't noticed, we haven't exactly been on speaking terms."

She spun to face him, cradling the cup in both hands. "Well, he is."

"And?"

Padmè took a sip from her caff and closed her eyes, savouring the comforting taste. With a deep breath, she leant back onto the bench and tried her best to calm down.

"He told him about the baby, Obi-wan," she said, dropping her gaze to the floor.

"Oh."

"I just don't understand why he would do that," she said, taking another sip. "He didn't ask me about it. He just did it. And after the performance he made when I first told him about the pregnancy, it's the very last thing I expected him to do."

"I'm sure he has his reasons for doing so Padmè _,_ " Obi-wan calmly explained. "Sidious is his Master after all."

Padmè dropped her cup onto the bench and folded her arms. "What has that got to do with anything? Don't tell me that you're suddenly taking his side on this."

Shaking his head, he walked into the kitchenette and set the replicator to make himself a tea. "This isn't _about_ taking sides Padmè. The bond between Master and Apprentice is ... well ... it's _incredibly_ powerful. It takes something quite catastrophic to sever it."

She rolled her eyes and huffed indignantly. "What? Like your apprentice suddenly deciding to pledge allegiance to the dark side and then murdering all of his Jedi brethren? Was that _catastrophic_ enough, Obi-wan?"

Obi-wan rested both hands onto the bench and dropped his head. Tidal waves of heartbreak, fear and anger were relentlessly crashing into him from across their battle-scarred Force bond. He couldn't blame her. She didn't understand how it worked – none of them did really. Perhaps the real reason his and Anakin ... _Vader's_ was still intact, was more to do with the fact that deep down, neither of them really wanted to let the other go. An apparent downfall of their _own_ attachment. He sighed.

"Apparently not," he whispered.

"I'm going to check on the twins, then have a shower. Let me know if he comes in please, I still want to talk with him," Padmè said, rubbing her arms and turning away.

"Will do my lady," he said, retrieving his tea and slumping back.

• • •

Vader, minus helmet and mask, sat in his open hyperbaric chamber, surrounded by the rubble and chaos of his fit of fury. Fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut he focussed on the Force, rasping as he tried to will his ravaged lungs into breathing unaided. The act was desperate. If Padmè could actually see his face, as horribly scarred and damaged as it was, then just maybe she would think twice about leaving him. It was a far stretch, one that he knew only too well, but at this point he was willing to try almost anything.

A tightness grew in his chest. Each new wheeze more difficult to ignore than the last. He clenched his fists harder. If only there was some way he could beat this.

 _BEEP, BEEP. BEEP, BEEP._

"E-chuta!" he cursed, thumping his fists onto the command console. Amber eyes burning, he glanced down at the incoming transmission in disgust. The bridge was hailing him. For now his attempts would have to wait. Activating the retractor arm to replace his head gear, he waited until it was secured before accepting the call.

"Yes Captain, what is it?" he growled, glaring up at the screen in his chamber.

" _Lord Vader, we have reports coming in from the probe droids."_

"Have they found something?"

" _Yes Sir. There appears to be remnants of some ancient abandoned city. But the planet's atmosphere is highly electrified, making it difficult for the ship's scanners to penetrate."_

"Are there any lifeforms?"

" _From what we can see, nothing sentient. Although there are life-readings coming from within the surrounding swamp land. Our guess is from native wildlife."_

"Good. Have Commander Appo prepare his men for ground assault. Inform him that I will meet him in the main hangar shortly."

" _Yes, Lord Vader."_

• • •

It was unusually quiet in the guest quarters. Both Jaina and Sabè were still in the bedroom, along with the twins. Padmè had disappeared into the shower over half an hour ago and was yet to return. The only company Obi-wan had was Artoo, quietly perched in the corner seemingly still recharging.

Normally the silence would be comforting, enabling him to sit in peace and focus on meditating. But not today. Meditation was proving to be somewhat of a challenge. He couldn't quieten his mind, not with Vader broadcasting his angst through the Force. He may as well have been standing right beside him, the tremors were that strong.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, Obi-wan opened his eyes and glanced around. Artoo turned his domed head toward him and twittered. Stretching his arms, he yawned and pushed himself up. "Fancy a tea, Artoo?" he jested, giving the Astromech a quick smile as he headed for the kitchenette.

Turning on the replicator, he scratched his beard and waited. The tremors continued to grow, getting more potent as each second ticked by. Just as the tea was ready, he heard the main cabin door sweep open, closely followed by the steady rasp of one all too familiar respirator.

"Perfect timing, as usual," he muttered to himself, retrieving the cup and turning to leave.

Vader was standing in the middle of the room, not far from where he'd just been sitting. Without the Force, he'd have had no way of telling what kind of foul mood he was in. Thankfully, that wasn't the case.

"If you're here to see Padmè, she's in the shower," Obi-wan said, leaning against the kitchenette door frame.

"I am not here to see her," Vader answered, folding his arms. "I have come to retrieve you and Artoo."

Obi-wan spat out his tea, trying desperately not to choke. Wiping his dripping beard, he stared up at the armoured Sith in shock. "Me? Why? Where are we going?"

"I am going down to Dromund Kaas and you two are coming with me."

Artoo had already removed his charging port and started for the door. Obi-wan looked between them, still undecided. "Can I at least finish my tea first?"

"If you must," he said, spinning on his heel and turning to leave. "But be quick about it. I will be waiting outside."

The cabin door slid closed behind him, and Obi-wan nervously glanced once more around the room. Padmè was going to be beside herself when she came out and discovered him to be missing. But for some reason, he knew informing her of this was not a good idea. If Anakin – blast it – _Vader_ had wanted to speak with her, he would've done so.

Quickly gulping down the rest of his tea, he dropped the cup into the kitchenette, felt for his lightsaber and headed for the door. As promised, Vader was waiting in the corridor, arms folded and mask tilted to the ceiling. He opened his mouth to speak when the Dark Lord turned and started to walk away, his black cloak flapping in his wake. As unexpected as this was, they were clearly still not on talking terms.

The long walk to the hangar was filled with nothing but more awkward silence. Obi-wan kept his eyes trained on the striding Sith and his loyal Astromech up ahead, being careful to avoid any and all eye contact from curious Imperial Officers and crew as they passed. It must've seemed so incredibly odd to see their Supreme Commander entertaining the company of a Jedi, let alone one as infamous as himself. Especially if what the Holonet reports proclaimed was indeed accurate.

Reaching the Exactor's main hangar, Obi-wan pulled to a stop, standing alongside his former padawan. Shuttle after shuttle were being loaded with his clone troopers, all sporting the very same blue markings as they'd had during the war. Commander Appo saluted Vader from the deck and started toward them. It was so painfully familiar and for a moment he found himself looking around for Anakin.

"Lord Vader," Appo acknowledged, standing proudly before him. "The men are prepped and ready. I have organized for the new scout walkers to be dropped on site, it'll be interesting to see them in action."

Vader swept his mask left and right. "Good work, Commander. I see you have things well under control."

"Yes, My Lord," he answered, his head slowly turning to Obi-wan. "Will the _... Jedi ..._ be joining us, Sir?"

"Indeed he will," Vader said, sparing him a brief glance. "Pay him no mind. He is with me, and that is all you need concern yourself with."

The trooper nodded. "Right you are. Your shuttle is ready and waiting."

"Good. Let us go."

• • •

The shuttle touched down in a small clearing, surrounded by dense jungle and swamplands. Ancient crooked trees covered in snaking vines stretched as far as the eye could see, reaching toward the electrified sky. Thunder clapped and lightning flashed, both from directly above and far off in the distance. Obi-wan stood by the foot of the ramp, staring out at the savage landscape, watching as Vader squelched forward onto the marshy ground to join his men.

There was a distinct chill in the dark air that penetrated his robe and wormed its way beneath his tunic. He didn't like this. Stretching out with his feelings, he sensed ... _nothingness_. The Force was eerily silent, little more than a whisper or memory, hovering in the shadows just out of reach. Casting his eyes across the gathering, he quickly tallied the strength of their forces. It wasn't the entire 501st battalion, but still an impressive display. Over two hundred troopers huddled in their squads, supported by ten two-legged armoured walkers – the likes of which he'd never seen before – clanking and thumping in-between the trees.

Artoo whistled from beside him. He glanced down at the Astromech before turning his attention back to Vader briefing Commander Appo and the squad leaders. As if sensing his stare, the Sith turned to him, beckoning him over with a flick of his wrist.

"All squads are to hold formation and push north for Kaas City," the Dark Lord ordered, pointing at the holomap. "Walkers to the rear, five a side. Kenobi and I will head the assault from the centre. Be on the lookout for anything sentient and subdue on contact. This is uncharted territory and as such we must be prepared for anything."

Obi-wan moved to stand beside him and folded his arms. He looked between the troopers and the Sith, overwhelmed by a sudden sense of melancholy gripping at his chest. Flashes of the Clone Wars ricocheted inside his head. Anakin appeared beside him, his long golden hair drifting on the winds, his determined blue eyes focussed on the mission. He shook his head and Vader reappeared, standing in exactly the same place. His black helmet and mask turned to his eleven troopers, his deep baritone voice booming over the sound of the drizzling rain pattering on his armour.

Before he was aware, the men about-faced and marched away, leaving him alone with his former padawan and Artoo. Vader turned to him, hooking his hands into his belt.

With a sigh, he watched as the squads moved out, dispersing into the surrounding swamplands, the clank and thud of the armoured walkers and the rattle of the duraplast trooper armour setting the mood. "What are we doing here, Anakin?" he whispered.

The Sith gazed at his army and turned back to him, folding his arms. "Searching for answers, Kenobi."

"Answers to what?"

Vader paused for a moment, then abruptly spun on his heel and charged forward.

"How to ... _end ..._ it," he growled lowly, striding away.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

So I've had to split this last chapter into two parts. The second half is almost complete, but I thought I would let this one out just in case Christmas got too hectic and I couldn't get it finished in time. I hope you enjoy it.

First of all, thank you everyone who has followed/favourited/reviewed. It is truly humbling. And now for something a bit different, a quick Q & A:

 _ **Morality is a Spook:**_ _Rise of Skywalker, hmm, I personally am just relieved they are still making content. I think it would be worse to abandon the trilogy after the failure it has experienced, rather than to at least finish telling the story for those who_ are _invested in it. Rey is far from a Mary Sue, and she has just as much of a back story as Luke did in A New Hope, so I don't mind her character so much. Kylo however needed a bit more 'fleshing out'. To me he appears whiny and spoilt, with no true push to lead him to the dark side. Perhaps if they had fleshed him out a bit more the story they are trying to tell would have a little more punch._

 _The Mandalorian though! Now what a winner, loving that._

 _ **Abyss Trinity:**_ _Thank you so much. Each chapter is a challenge to keep on course and this first installment of the final is no different. So often the characters take you off on some strange tangent and before you know it, you're deleting nearly 3000 words to course correct it. If only they'd stay on target._

 _ **Guest:**_ _Kylo needed more character development to strengthen his cause. Which is a shame because he HAD all the back story, all they needed was the initial conflict. And no I don't consider Luke stopping himself from hurting him to be motivation enough to turn to the dark side. Rey, well let's just see where they take her I guess._

 _ **RyuuShadow:**_ _You're in luck, I needed to split this as it became too long for one chapter. Guess you're stuck with me hanging around a bit longer, lol._

 _Ferus Vs. Vader (look out for Episode 2) not giving away any details on that one though._

 _ **Guest:**_ _I too find myself lost in the Star Wars Galaxy, that is why I write these._

 _ **Stacy:**_ _Yes, unfortunately Vader really should consult his wife before speaking. But Anakin never did think things through very well before jumping in._

 _ **Sfloresf:**_ _The significance of his dreams are to highlight how he is seemingly trapped by his decisions and showcase his inner regret and desires. In the canon comics he is often portrayed as dismayed, upset and depressed. It's one of the things I truly enjoy about his character. He is a good guy stuck in a bad situation that becomes the bad guy to deal and survive. Heartbreaking really._

 _ **Laurapal:**_ _sorry word won't let me remove the capital L from your pen name. Welcome aboard, I am glad you're enjoying it._

 _ **Freya:**_ _I too see Vader this way. I wanted to explore his transition from a reckless and foolhardy young man to the humbled tyrant we see in the films. But at the same time throwing in his family and Obi-wan. Padmè is such a strong woman, and I know she cries a lot in this episode, but I think any hormonal mother dealing with the insecurity and conflict she is dealing with would struggle with it. But throughout everything she knows Vader loves her and that she ultimately has a large amount of control over him._

 _ **HaywireEagle:**_ _I did do some pretty extensive reading before this and discovered that the TIE fighters were commissioned as early as 19BBY. Naturally I was pretty excited by this revelation, which is why Vader refers to "taking his new TIE fighter out on test flights" at the beginning of the story and explains why Padmè has no idea of them until she sees them on her way to Alderaan. As for the Lambda shuttles, they have no canon-conclusive release dates to work with. So maybe we could call it creative licence. Padmè is also dead in Canon, so naturally it doesn't follow it 100%. But it's fun to write and thank you so much for your review. Plus those shuttles are just awesome._

 _ **The Jingo:**_ _Thank you so much, and welcome aboard._

 _So back to the grind and I'll get the next installment out as quick as I can._

 _MTFBWY_


	40. Chapter 37: Inopinatum Morsus: Part II

**Chapter 37: Inopinatum Morsus**

 **Part TWO**

Thunder rumbled in the atmosphere. The constant drizzling rain drenching the trees. Amidst the clatter and thud of the army, the occasional hiss and howl of distant creatures echoed on the wind. Vader strode ahead, his water logged cloak swaying as he repeatedly slashed at entangled vines with his saber. Left and right, they sparked and sizzled, flailing in the air before slumping onto the sodden ground at his feet.

Obi-wan followed close behind him, still trying to reach out into the Force. His eyes guardedly drifting side to side on high alert, uneasy with his sudden inability to connect. His boots squelching in the marsh, he trudged onward, constantly watching and waiting.

Artoo fired up his rocket boosters and hovered over a fallen branch, landing just off to his right. The brief flash of light momentarily derailing his focus. It was as if they were stuck in a bubble, isolated from the Force. He couldn't sense anything about their surroundings, like he was suddenly blindfolded and stumbling around in the dark. Quickening his pace, Obi-wan closed the short distance between them, taking out the vines to the left, leaving Vader the ones to the right.

"Can you feel that?" Obi-Wan asked, slicing through a dangling rambler.

"Feel _what_?" the Dark Lord grunted, continuing onward.

"Precisely."

Vader stopped, lowering his crimson blade and turning to him.

Obi-wan met his hidden gaze, his face taught. "I can't sense anything ... other than you."

The black mask tilted to the treetops. The tiny water droplets sliding down the helmet and splashing onto his cloak. "I had not noticed until now. But other than your _insufferable_ presence, I too feel nothing."

"Don't you find that disturbing?"

"Not nearly as much as I find you."

"Yes, well ... be that as it may," Obi-wan retorted, "we are still flying blind, Anakin. It would seem the Force is not with us."

"I did not bring you here to lecture me, Kenobi," Vader grunted, waving his hand dismissively and pressing forward.

With a heavy sigh, he again, moved to follow him. "And why _did_ you bring me here?"

The Sith stopped once more, his head dipped slightly, but not turning this time. His presence was a mess, an apparent after effect of his all too recent disagreement with Padmè. It struck him as strange. It was clear that he was deeply immersed in the dark side but at the same time there was a distant shimmer of light dancing in the shadows. That same shimmer that had brought them back together, that had reignited their bond and nursed it to life.

Before he could answer, a commotion sounded from the trees. In the distance the troopers were yelling. A roaring howl bellowed from up ahead. Seconds later blaster fire rang out.

Both Sith and Jedi snapped to stare at each other.

"What was that?" Obi-wan asked.

"Sounds like they found something," Vader answered.

"Or something found _them._ "

The treetops shuddered. Branches shook. Muddy puddles trembled. More screeching howls echoed – _lots_ of them.

"Oh, I have a _bad_ feeling about this," Obi-wan groaned, his eyes scanning every shadowy corner. He spun in place with weapon drawn, dropping into defence. Vader whirled with him, readying for attack. Back to back, scarlet and cerulean sabers humming, they waited, both anxiously looking around for a glimpse.

Yellow eyes glittered amongst the trees. More screeching howls warbled around them.

"Tell me this isn't Vanqor," Obi-wan groaned as the beasts began to close in.

Vader's respirator briefly faltered. "This _isn't_ Vanqor," he growled over his shoulder.

"So they _aren't_ what I think they are?"

" _No_ ," the Sith remarked, pushing back slightly, "they are _exactly_ what you think they are."

"Oh ... well that's a relief."

"A _relief?!_ "

One of the beasts finally moved into the moonlight, its red leathery head – complete with dripping, jagged teeth and high reaching, pointy ears – stared straight at them. Heavily muscled and as tall as a bantha, the four-armed, two-legged creature lumbered forward, its krayt-dragon clawed hands dangling at its sides. Lifting its head to the trees, it screeched.

Four more slowly clambered into position.

They were surrounded.

* * *

 _TANTIVE III: YAVIN 4_

Breaking through thick mist and cloud cover, the Tantive III gradually descended into the densely packed tree canopy and headed for a small clearing, coming to land before a pyramidal stone temple.

Walking down the ramp, Bail Organa – flanked by the two Jedi – headed out onto the makeshift landing pad where a small group of men stood in waiting.

"Senator Organa," the first officer greeted with hand extended. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you face to face."

Bail took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Likewise, Colonel Draven."

The clean shaven, middle aged officer gestured to his two companions. "This is Haxen Delto and Dustil Forell, two of my trusted associates. They, like myself, are very interested in hearing your proposal."

"I look forward to the possibility of us working together," Bail said, shooting Ferus a flash smile. "Please, allow me to introduce Ferus Olin and Caleb Dume."

Ferus noted the sceptical glances both he and Caleb received from the three mercenaries. He nodded politely, stretching out with his feelings. He suddenly got the unmistakable sense that they weren't welcome and it only added to his unease. The temple was emanating negativity, the Dark side of the Force rippling all around them.

Draven narrowed his gaze, his blue eyes sweeping up and down both of them. He cleared his throat and returned to Bail.

"Come, let me show you around," Haxen said, interrupting the silence and gesturing to the opening of the temple. "There is much to discuss."

Ferus and Caleb hung back behind the main group but still kept pace. They looked up at the temple as they approached the main entry. The top was invisible from the ground, the main peak blurring and merging with the weighted mist. Inside, construction crews were busy reinforcing duracrete walls and installing blast doors. Ships of all shapes and sizes littered the hangar – retired star-fighters, battered freighters, troop transports and a corvette similar to the Tantive III.

"They sure are well organised for a group of Mercs," Caleb muttered.

"I agree," Ferus whispered.

"They're watching us."

Two stocky officers in combat jackets and cargo trousers glared up at them from their supply crate.

"Just keep walking Caleb, we're not here to start trouble. You don't know their history, their reactions may very well feel justified."

"Yes, Master."

Shuffling closer to the main party, the two Jedi listened in on their conversation, which had shifted from warm welcomes and protocols to the refitting of the ancient temple.

"And that's why that shipment was so crucial, Bail," Draven stated solemnly, leading them toward an awaiting turbo-lift. "Without those crystals we are without an income." He stopped by the open door and turned to face them.

"I see," the Viceroy said, dropping his hands to rest at his back. "So this entire operation is funded through smuggling rings and the black market?"

"How else do you think we afford this?"

The group filed into the cramped turbo-lift and made for the next level. The doors opened to a communications hub, still in the midst of being established. Officers were huddled around beeping monitors and glowing holomaps, seemingly too caught up in their work to notice the newcomers.

" _Really_ well organised," Caleb whispered.

Ferus lifted his hand in an effort to quiet the young padawan. He watched the Viceroy gaze around the room, paying close attention to his rigid body language. Organa moved toward one of the central command consoles and leaned forward, stroking his chin.

"Colonel Draven," one of the console operators called out. "We have company."

Draven, Haxen, Dustil and Bail moved closer, encircling the technician.

"Imps?" Dustil asked, leaning one hand onto the cabinet and staring at the navicomputer. Hundreds of unidentified ships of various origins appeared on the display.

"No Sir," the tech said, shaking his head.

The Viceroy smiled and nodded to the three mercs. "It appears as though my associates have arrived," he said triumphantly. "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to my operation, _The_ _Alderaanian_ _Resistance_."

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER DROMUND KAAS_

Padmè stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel, gently wiping away the water from her skin. She finally felt more like herself again, the soothing water cleansing away some of the built up frustration and heartache she'd been carrying. Each day they were cooped up together on this ship was getting more and more difficult to manage. Between Anakin's constant back and forth, Obi-wan's insistence on her leaving and Sabè's relentless overprotectiveness, she was starting to feel like she was drowning.

Pulling on her undergarments, she moved to the mirror and started braiding her hair. She could've asked Sabè to do it, but truthfully, she needed the space. Peace and quiet. A moment alone, so she could go over and reflect on everything that had recently happened in her husband's chamber.

Thinking back, it was obvious now, that during that _conversation_ , Anakin had been the first to get worked up. But what she couldn't fathom was why? His reaction was clearly related to her request for her own ship. What made that such an unreasonable request? Could he not see the logic in her argument himself? Or was he just anxious about ever letting her out of his sight again?

Knowing him it was probably the latter. He was never good at letting her leave – even before he turned.

What she still couldn't shake though, was why tell Palpatine about the baby? She'd felt his anxiety skyrocket the moment she told him about the pregnancy. How was him knowing going to help matters? It sure didn't help not being able to see his face. To look into his eyes and search for the truths he kept hidden.

She sighed. His face. His once youthful and rugged young face. She could still see it as clearly as her reflection in the mirror.

A gentle flutter tickled in the depths of her core. Instantly, both hands flew to her stomach and a soft smile tugged at her lips.

This was the very first sign of the life growing inside her. The one both she and Anakin had created – the one that would hopefully draw him back out from the shadows he'd encapsulated himself in.

Looking back up to the mirror, she stared at herself, rhythmically rubbing circles over her bare skin. She still loved him so much. He didn't need to turn back for her, even though, she knew he would if she pushed him hard enough. She just wanted him to find a way out of this depression. At least, she suspected he was depressed. How could he not be? Living confined to that suit day in day out, constantly isolated and in pain with no way to stop it. If she could only get Obi-wan to see what she did – that Anakin was still in there – then maybe between the two of them they could show him a way out. Show him that despite everything that has happened there was still an escape route. That as long as they were all together they would find a way to overcome this.

But he would need to start being honest with her. For too long now she'd tolerated his secrecy and evasiveness. It had to change. As of this moment she was struggling to trust him and that was simply unacceptable. How could they continue to fool themselves into believing their marriage could survive without trust?

To make matters worse it felt as though he trusted Palpatine more than her! His wife! The man was a sociopath. Why he couldn't break away from his manipulations was beyond her. He tortured and abused him, treating him as though he was nothing more than property, repeatedly physically beating him into submission, sometimes to near death severity. If only he could find the strength to break free.

But his own words told her that he didn't believe he could. _I'm not strong enough. He almost killed me._ If Anakin didn't have the confidence in his own abilities to go up against Palpatine, then what hope was there? It was as if he had accepted his fate, knowing he was doomed to servitude. This was where Obi-wan needed to step up his game and recognise the truth of what was really happening. The over-confident, self-assured Anakin was gone. Replaced by an insecure, beaten down young man who had lost the will to fight, instead driven to making others share in his suffering.

Obi-wan was the key to unlocking his insecurity. Only he knew his abilities well enough to be able to shock him out of this paralysis. Together they would be strong enough to overthrow Palpatine. United. Joining forces, Jedi and Sith together, taking on the oppression of the Emperor. Together they would be unstoppable. As they always were known for during the war. Kenobi and Skywalker. The pair that made the Separatists quiver in fear, that had them hightailing it to the far ends of the galaxy to evade them.

But how to get them to overcome their differences? How could she make them see what she could envision? Emotional blackmail wasn't going to work here, she knew this. Somehow she had to find a way to get them to trust each other again, then the rest would follow. The question was ... how?

Finishing off her braid, she pulled on her black tunic and leggings then fastened her ruby buckled belt and left for the bedroom. The cot and beds were dishevelled and empty. Dropping her soiled nightgown into the wash, she continued out to the living room. Sabè was in the kitchenette more than likely preparing breakfast and Jaina was sitting on the rug entertaining Luke and Leia.

"Good morning Jaina, have you seen Obi-wan?" Padmè asked, taking a seat on the sofa.

The young Jedi shook her head and resumed tickling the twins. "He was already gone when we came out, My Lady," she said.

"I don't suppose you might be able to sense where he is, roughly?" she asked. "He used to be able to feel Anakin through the Force. Does it work the same way for you?"

Jaina stared up at her from the floor, her bright blue eyes narrowing slightly. She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, it works differently for those two, being that they were bonded. But ... I can try I guess." Closing her eyes, she went completely silent.

Padmè looked to the twins sitting on the rug beside her, both intensely staring as if they could sense what she was doing. It made her wonder, how old did children need to be before their Force sensitivity became obvious? Did they have it from birth? Or was it something that just developed over time?

"They're not on the ship," Jaina stated, slowly opening her eyes and shaking her head.

"They?"

"Yes. They. I can't sense either Master Kenobi or Lord Vader anywhere onboard."

"Breakfast is ready," Sabè announced, carrying a tray of food over to the dining table. "Oh good morning My Lady, are you hungry? I made breakfast."

"Ah, no thank you Sabè. I don't suppose you heard anything before you came out did you? When I went for a shower Obi-wan was drinking his tea, and now he's missing. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried."

Dropping the tray down on the table, the handmaiden shrugged. "I didn't hear anything. But don't you have a comm unit or something you can contact that _husband_ of yours on? Surely he'll be able to give you some insight. It is _his_ ship after all."

Padmè tried her best not to respond. Her handmaiden was walking a very fine line at the moment. Sooner or later she was going to have to make the choice; stay and support her, fulfilling her duty or leave and take her disrespectful tongue with her. Dismissing the thought she turned and headed back into the bedroom. She was right, she did have a comm unit, but would Anakin answer it after their argument?

* * *

 _DROMUND KAAS: SOUTH OF KAAS CITY BORDER_

"So much for Gundarks only being on Vanqor!" Obi-wan panted, swinging his saber toward the incensed beast as it took a swipe at him. "Was this part of your plan?"

Vader backed into him, ducking his head and slicing off the secondary arm of the one looming above him. It screamed and lurched, stumbling back a few steps. Twirling his blade into position, he crouched forward and readied for round two. "Not exactly."

"Have you noticed only the smaller ones are attacking us?"

The red beam slashed at the advancing Gundark, glancing its chest. It screamed again in protest, swinging its forearms wildly at the Dark Lord. He ducked and weaved. As the claws swiped passed his head, he growled back. "The small ones are female. They seem to be protecting him."

Obi-wan levitated a fallen branch from the swamp and hurled it at a pair charging for him. It collided with one, knocking it flat. The other kept coming. "Do you think you can get to him?" he gasped, dropping in to a roll and diving between its legs, narrowly avoiding the jagged teeth as they gnashed at thin air.

"That depends," Vader said, jumping back from a slash and landing on a rock. He wobbled then secured his footing, watching the Gundark jerkily spin around to face him.

"Depends on _what?!_ "

Vader's wrist comm chirped, jarring his focus. He looked back at his former master darting through the trees trying to outrun his pursuer. "ON WHETHER I CAN TRUST _YOU_ TO KEEP THEM OFF OF MY BACK!"

The Gundark lunged at him again. The Sith's patience rapidly running out. With a grunt, he thrust his free hand palm first at the beast and Force pushed it away, sending it flying back through the trees. Branches snapped on its flailing limbs, giving way and following its course toward the swampy bushes.

"CAN'T WE WORRY ABOUT ALL OF THAT LATER?!" Obi-wan yelled. He ducked under a low-lying branch, his boot sinking into a deep puddle. The dirty water splashed up his leg, covering him in silt. He scrambled to his feet and kept running. The branch didn't deter the Gundark, it barged through it, forcing it back with its arm and cracking it at the joint. Obi-wan glanced back seeing it was gaining on him. "I can't keep this up forever, Anakin!"

Vader's comm chirped again. He lifted his wrist to his mask and answered. "Padmè, this isn't a good time," he hissed.

" _Anakin, is Obi-wan with you?"_

He looked up at his former mentor circling, drawing near his back and quickly turned away, his cloak flapping violently in the roaring wind. "Is that why you contacted me?" he snapped. "Just so you could find _him!_ "

" _No. It's just ..."_

"ANAKIN! GET DOWN! NOW!"

A deafening rumble thundered behind him. Vader spun back. He didn't see it coming. Suddenly thrown from the rock, rammed head first by the Gundark he'd Force pushed away. His armoured body flew in the air, launched across the marsh into a giant boulder concealed within the trees. His helmeted head smashed into it, his body colliding with the ground with a thump.

" _ANI! ANI! WHAT'S HAPPENING? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"_

Seeing stars, he tried to focus. The sodden ground shuddered below him. All of a sudden two Gundarks screeched from either side, their warbling screams pitching and braying on the wind. The one he'd wounded jumped at him, flying from the rock he was launched from and coming for him with claws extended.

She landed a few meters from his boots and screamed, the saliva spraying from her razor teeth. Reaching for his lightsaber, he suddenly realised he'd dropped it and quickly looked around. The Gundark threw her head back and moved to finish him. Pushing away, she launched.

A flash of brown and blue appeared in the air above her. The iridescent cerulean beam cutting vertically through the rain, smashing down into her thick red flesh and impaling her skull between the ears. The yellow eyes went wide and she howled, slumping face first into the mud with Obi-wan riding her down.

Howls screeched from every corner as the other three females retreated into the shadows. A braying roar bellowed from the distance.

Both Sith and Jedi stared into the darkness.

"Can you get up?" Obi-wan rasped between breaths, leaning forward and offering his hand. "We're not out of this yet."

Vader grunted and groaned, forcing his weight from the floor. "He's not happy," he remarked, pushing forward onto his knees and watching as the hulking male Gundark bounded toward them. He took the Jedi's hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet.

"No, it doesn't seem like it."

Spinning around, Vader faced the bull head on with hand extended. He didn't move, feet planted and muddied cloak flapping.

"Oh, you can't be serious," Obi-wan said, pulling his blade into position.

Vader ignored him. Listening to the howl of the wind, he closed his eyes behind the mask and focused. The Force ripped through him, bringing the creature's mind into view. He felt its heart pounding, the savage rage flowing. He pushed harder, his gloved fingers unyielding. Memories and images started to flow between them.

The bull stumbled into an awkward trot, its four arms and two legs slowing in pace. A moment later it skidded to a halt, stopping barely a meter from the Sith's outstretched hand. Teeth bared and heckles raised, it growled and brayed, shaking it's head left and right. After a few seconds, its ears finally lowered and the beast calmed, a subtle grumbling purr emanating from its chest.

They remained like this for nearly five minutes.

"They're guard dogs," Vader announced matter-of-factly, turning his hand palm down and gesturing for the beast to lay down. The Gundark obeyed, dropping onto the mud and laying its head on its front claws.

"Guard dogs?" Obi-wan asked, walking up to stand alongside him. "What ever for?"

"They were brought here to protect the City," he said, brushing some of the dirt from his suit. "He's the last surviving male. That's why they were protecting him."

"How touching," Obi-wan said looking between the Sith and the beast. "So what are you going to do with him now?"

The black mask turned to the surrendered creature. "I have always wanted a pet Gundark," he jested, smirking behind his ventilator. "I think I'll keep him."

"You really are insane."

"You just don't like them because you stumbled into one of their nests and I had to rescue you."

That was all he needed to hear. Now he knew Anakin was still in there. Buried, suffocated. But there nonetheless. A sorrowful smile threatened to tug at his lips at the memory. "Perhaps. But only this time ... it was me who did the rescuing."

The Sith folded his arms over his chest and went silent. Something dark and foreboding surged between them. Cocking his brow, Obi-wan stroked his beard, watching his former brother. For a moment he had felt the dynamic of their relationship change – a shift in the Sith's disposition. Clearly, he'd felt it too.

Then, as if disgusted, he pushed it aside.

And just like that, the fond memory vanished.

"Indeed," Vader hissed, turning away. With a wave of his hand, the Gundark bull suddenly lurched to it's feet and bounded away, calling out to its counterparts and disappearing into the trees.

" _Ani! Can you hear me? Is everything alright?"_

Vader lifted his wrist to his mask. "Everything is _fine_ Padmè," he said, glancing around. "I am a little busy. I will comm you back shortly." Not waiting for her to respond, he disconnected the call and stood tall. He was missing something. A distant metal clanking echoed from behind, from somewhere near the trees. Turning in place, he scanned the area for disturbances.

"Have you seen Artoo?" he asked.

Obi-wan followed his line of sight, his eyes scouring their surroundings. "He was right behind us."

"ARTOO?" Vader called, striding back. "ARTOO, where are you?"

The metallic rattling continued. Aggravated twitters and chirps sounded from beside one of the trees. The Dark Lord headed for the bushes, following the sound. He held his hand in the air, calling his fallen lightsaber. It flew into his glove and he holstered it to his belt.

"Hang on buddy, I'm coming," Vader said, seeing his Astromech covered in mud and pinned by a fallen branch. He hurried over. Freeing his friend, he knelt down and pulled him back on to his treads, wiping the dirt from his photoreceptor. "There. Is that better?"

"Wooo – rooo," Artoo answered.

Obi-wan walked up behind them. Something moved on the ground by the tree trunk. He stepped closer. It moved again. "Anakin?" he said, crouching down and separating the reeds.

"What?" Vader grunted.

"I think you'll want to see this."

Rising to his feet, the Dark Lord moved to join his former master crouched beside the tree trunk. Obi-wan reached into the reeds and scooped up a small creature. Its odd reptilian head slumped over the side of his fingers, and its thin tail dangled to the floor. It stiffened and died in his hands.

"Ysalamiri," Vader said pointedly. "That explains why we couldn't feel the Force."

"The Gundark must have knocked it from the tree," Obi-wan mused, rising to his full height. He turned to the Sith. "Someone sure went out of their way to hide this place."

"Oooh – Oooh. Beep – bloop – beep," Artoo chirped, rolling forward and bumping into Vader's leg. His storage compartment rattled and thudded.

"What have you got in there?" Vader dropped down to one knee and opened the metal door of the droid's frontal canister. The holocron shot into his hands, the red glow pulsing like a beacon.

"Is that a Sith holocron?" Kenobi inquired, leaning over.

"Yes," he said shortly. "Where did you find this? I thought I'd lost it back on Korriban."

"Woooo – rooooh. Beep – beep, twit - beep – bloop."

He rubbed his dome affectionately. "Good work Artoo. Yes, you were right. It is very important to me." Standing back up, he stared at the glowing prism and slowly turned in place. Its presence felt different to how he remembered. It seemed heavier. He felt a tug toward the tree-line and automatically started forward, a strange numbness creeping over him.

"Where are you going?" Obi-wan asked, glancing to Artoo and then moving to follow. Vader either ignored him or didn't hear him, because he just kept walking. "Anakin?"

"The city is this way," he answered flatly, not stopping.

Obi-wan silently kept pace alongside the striding Sith. They trudged between knotted trees and swamp surrounded bushes. The lightning and thunder intensified the deeper they went, igniting the sky, the bright flashes sparking through the tree canopy.

Neither of them had spoken a word.

The troopers were getting closer too, he could hear the rattle of the armour and the heavy clank and thud of the walkers closing in. He sighed. A few more steps and the silence was suddenly unbearable.

"What happened between you two this morning?" he asked, quickening his pace until they were side by side.

"As to _what_ are you referring?" Vader said, sparing him a quick glance.

"Between you and Padmè," Obi-wan said, relieved he'd responded. "She was rather upset when she came back."

He went silent. A few more steps then he eventually responded.

" _She_ ... was not the only one," he growled lowly.

He kept walking, his force presence flickering through their bond. Stars in space, nebula after nebula, the Light Side flashing in the Dark.

"No, I did notice that," Obi-wan pressed. "Did you _want_ to talk about it?"

Vader took two more steps then swayed and dipped his head. It was as if he'd suddenly shrunk before him, his armoured shoulders drooping and his normally rigid posture cantering forward into a slight lean. After a few uneven cycles of his respirator, he finally found his voice.

"I'm not ... No ... not particularly," he grumbled, lifting his free hand and pressing it to his helmet.

"Are you sure?" Obi-wan stared at him intensely, hoping he would take the chance. He could feel him fighting – the disgust, the turmoil, the anguish, the conflict. "You're not sure ... are you?"

"I'm ... not sure about _anything_ any more," Vader muttered.

The light exploded.

"I'm right here, Anakin," Obi-wan said softly, moving up and gently placing his hand on his shoulder armour. He felt the Force spark between them. "Talk to me."

The black mask slowly turned to him. His breathing ragged.

"I can't _lose_ her, Obi-wan," he said, turning his head away. "Not again ... Not now."

"What happened?"

Vader pulled out of his touch and looked up to the tree tops. "He wanted to speak with her. I told him she was sleeping, but he insisted. He threatened to come here in person if I didn't comply." He started to pace, shaking his head.

"What about the baby?" Obi-wan asked, folding his arms. He watched him pace back and forth, his anxiety barrelling through their bond.

"He wants it. He pushed the two of us together at the Palace, manipulating and scheming the whole time. I thought, providing I obeyed him, carrying out his orders to the letter, that telling him about the baby would keep her safe."

He stopped pacing and stood limp, his gleaming head hung low. His sodden cape fluttered on the wind, the holocron still pulsing brightly in his hand.

Obi-wan pushed his fringe back and wiped the drizzling rain from his face. Taking a seat on a fallen log, he leaned forward and watched the Sith slowly unravel.

"Did you tell Padmè this?" he asked.

Vader lifted his empty hand into the air and stared at it, clenching and unclenching his gloved fingers. "I ... I _should_ have. But she was already angry at me for contacting him in the first place. I got frustrated with her."

"Then what happened?"

"Palpatine blackmailed her into working for him – for _us,_ " he snarled, clenching his fist so tight it trembled. He started pacing again. "He threatened to permanently separate us. Which I know he's going to try and do anyway, one way _or_ another. Not that it makes any difference, she's going to leave me now regardless."

His anger was building, instead of just talking he was now venomously spitting out every word.

"What makes you think _that_?" Obi-wan whispered, hoping his hushed tone of voice would help tame his rage.

Vader turned his back to him as if trying to control his temper. "He has forced her into spying on Organa's rebellion," he hissed. "She is to join them and report back to him with what she finds. So she demanded her own ship. But I know, she _really_ wants it so she can run away. She has you and the twins now, she no longer needs _me_."

A close-fisted jab at him.

"That's your fear talking," Obi-wan reprimanded, not hiding the condescending nature of his statement.

Vader whirled to face him, the darkness radiating from every fibre of his being. He made no attempt to conceal it, suddenly permitting his anger to take hold.

"My _fear_?" he roared indignantly. "No, it's reality! Look at me! I'm a monster, half-man half-machine. I'm so pathetic that I can't even breathe on my own. Most of the time I'm drugged up, so as to make sure I don't slip back into a suicidal depression!"

"If you're so miserable, why don't you try and leave? We could disappear."

He calmed down and lifted the holocron to stare at it, twisting it in his grip.

"It wouldn't matter where I went, he would still find me. That's why I'm here, searching for the City. Darth Malgus's ghost reached out and directed me here. I'm hoping it isn't all just some wild Bantha chase and that I will actually be able to find answers. If not, I dread the thought of what's going to happen when I eventually return to Coruscant."

This time Obi-wan jumped to his feet, folding his arms tight across his chest. "You're actually going _back_ to him?"

Vader started to walk away, shrugging his armoured shoulders and Obi-wan moved to follow.

"What other choice is there?" he said, sounding defeated. "It's the only way I can protect Padmè. At least this way, I can keep him from getting to her. He'll punish me again, but that is to be expected. I have become accustomed to it. But at least she will be safe."

"You regret it now, don't you?" Obi-wan said, looking up into his mask and keeping pace beside him.

Vader stopped and spun on his heel, his cape a looming dark shadow enveloping the splintered light.

" _NOW_?" he bellowed, his booming robotic voice piercing the air. "I regretted it _then!_ It killed me. Do you think I enjoyed what I did? Do you think I wanted this? I felt ... every ... single ... death tear through my insides and rip me apart. I _cried_ non-stop for days. I contemplated death every hour. Wanted it. _Begged_ for it. I lashed out at him so he would kill me. But he _wouldn't_. Instead he tortured me, turned me into a lightning rod, then pumped me full of that serum and watched me suffer."

He stopped his onslaught and fought to regulate his breathing. The respirator was struggling, hissing and clicking intermittently with each ragged breath. He groaned, clenched his fist and turned away, heading for the city.

Slightly taken aback, Obi-wan again moved to chase him.

"He won, Obi-wan," Vader muttered, his voice breaking. "The Battle. The War. _Everything_. And he took everything from me in the process."

He stopped and stared at him face to face. So close, that Obi-wan was able to see the shimmering amber of his eyes burning behind the lenses of his mask.

"I _HATE_ him."

And with that, Vader charged forward, not uttering another word.

* * *

 _STAR DESTROYER EXACTOR: IN ORBIT OVER DROMUND KAAS_

Padmè wiped the tears from her eyes and left the bedroom. At least now she knew where Obi-wan was, but it did nothing to ease her mind. He was now at Anakin's mercy and that thought made her feel sick to the stomach. She'd stopped him from hurting him twice, but she couldn't do anything this time. She just prayed to Shiraya that Obi-wan would behave and not push his luck.

Both Jaina and Sabè stared up at her from the dining table. She almost walked away, but instead sucked in a deep breath and pulled out one of the chairs to sit down. Pouring herself a caff, she kept her eyes down trying to ignore their expectant stares. She twisted the filled cup in her hands, deep in thought.

"Well?" Sabè asked. "Did you manage to get hold of him?"

She sighed. "Yes, Sabè. I did," Padmè answered, taking a sip of her caff. "Obi-wan is with Anakin down on the planet's surface."

"With _Vader_ , you mean?"

"Oh Sabè, give it a rest, will you," Jaina groaned, placing the spoon she was using to feed Luke into his empty bowl. "Don't you think she is going through enough as it is? Considering the relationship you both have, I would've expected you to be a little more supportive than this."

"I don't trust him, Jaina. Not with Padmè, not with the twins and definitely not with Obi-wan," Sabè argued. "He may have been a Jedi once, but he certainly isn't one anymore."

"He's more Jedi than _you_ give him credit for, handmaiden! He could've killed any one of us, but he hasn't. Why is that do you think?"

"Oh, you _are_ infatuated with him, aren't you? I knew it! I knew it from the moment you couldn't take your eyes off of him in that photo you had back on Alderaan," Sabè declared standing from the table. "The answer to your question is simple."

Padmè finished her caff and dropped the cup heavily onto the table. "Actually Sabè, I too am interested in hearing your answer to that," she said, folding her arms.

"Don't you see? He is just trying to _please_ _you_ , Milady. Nothing more."

Padmè smiled. "Thank you Sabè. That is exactly what I needed to hear," she said, getting out of her seat and moving around to pick up her son. "Jaina, would you mind bringing Leia over to the rug, please?"

"I don't understand, Milady," Sabè said, joining her mistress in the sitting area. "You seem pleased with what I said. Why?"

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Padmè pulled Luke against her chest and rested back onto the foot of the sofa. "I am pleased, Sabè. Because, like you said, he _is_ trying. And that is more than I could ever have hoped for."

* * *

 _DROMUND KAAS: KAAS CITY GATES_

Vader and Obi-wan stood at the city gates, surrounded by Commander Appo and the 501st. The sky crackled above, the moonlight interrupted by forks of lightning shooting between the black clouds.

"What were they keeping in there?" Obi-wan asked, stroking his beard. "A Giant Kraytt dragon?"

Vader, wet armour shimmering and cloak drifting on the wind, remained silent.

The two solid grey gates reached high into the air, supported by two even taller rectangular pillars, each connected to massive stone walls that spanned the horizon. It looked impenetrable, the walls potentially thick enough to withstand multiple AT-TE cannon attacks without crumbling. Decaying twisted vines and ancient trees had grown up the sides, as if the jungle itself had tried to move in and reclaim the city.

"Should we try blowing it, Sir?" Appo suggested, standing beside the Dark Lord.

"Negative, Commander," Vader said. "I want it to remain intact."

"We could scale the walls, My Lord," Appo offered again. "Drop the scouts in behind them and see if there's a release inside?"

"No," he dismissed. "I have another idea."

Holding the holocron in front of him, Vader closed his eyes behind the mask and drew on the Force. He unlocked his anger, releasing it the way Sidious had taught him. Pulling on reserves, drawing on everything that gave him pain – the temple, his immolation, the Jedi, imprisonment – he channelled it all. Felt it burn inside like the raging fires of Mustafar. The flames chewing at his flesh, licking at the soles of his boots and slowly scalding their way up to envelop his scarred skull. The surging raw power hummed inside him. The searing hot rage swallowing him whole.

He sensed the holocron lift from his outstretched hand. Could see its power in his mind's eye. He mentally reached for it, visualizing his hand unlocking the insidious prism. Another power surge belted him, the red-hot spark jolting through his head.

" _Malgus. I'm at the gates. Show me."_

 _The semi-concealed face of Darth Malgus appeared amidst the flames, his ghostly Sith eyes gleaming against his pasty white skin and respirator._

" _The City is protected by the Sith of Old, Lord Vader."_

" _What must I do, Malgus?"_

" _Remember your pledge to your Master ... the code. Speak the language of your forebears."_

" _As you wish."_

Flaming amber-red eyes opened behind the crimson lenses. Vader levitated the scarlet holocron higher until it was level with his mask, watching it spin before him.

Obi-wan stared at the Sith, aghast. The Dark Side of the Force swirled through and around him like a corybantic tempest. He was one with the shadows, as black as night itself. Through their bond, he felt the ashen clawed tendrils reaching out, dragging in all life from around him. He felt his vision cloud over. The malevolent energy stripping his lungs of all breath.

But even that hadn't prepared him for the _sound_ that left his mouth. The deep, augmented, baritone, growling incantation that spewed forth from his blood-stained lips.

The Dark Lord dropped to one knee and dipped his head before the spinning Sith holocron and chanted:

" **Nwûl tash.**

 **Dzwol shâtsotkun.**

 **Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk.**

 **Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan.**

 **Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha.**

 **Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak.**

 **Wonoksh Qyâsik nun."**

Obi-wan jumped back as the clouds above them suddenly erupted.

He'd fought Darth Maul on Naboo and defeated him. He'd gone head to head with Darth Tyrannus – otherwise known as Count Dooku – on Geonosis and seen his strength first hand. He'd cut Anakin down on Mustafar using his own youthful arrogance against him.

But never, in his entire embattled and traumatic career as a Jedi, had he ever witnessed anything like this.

This was rage, personified.

This was power, unparalleled.

This was Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith.

Aka Anakin Skywalker.

 _Former_ Jedi Knight.

 _His_ former padawan.

 _He'd_ trained this.

And yet he'd been blind to it.

And for the first time in his life, he truly understood the meaning of _fear_.

Blinding blue lightning rained from the sky. Hundreds of iridescent beams crackling and scorching the wet air. Wraithlike screams howled on the gale force winds.

And yet Darth Vader remained still. Untamed power surging around him. Fists clenched and body frozen. Knelt beneath the radiant glow of the throbbing holocron. His midnight cloak billowing behind him.

He didn't move until a rumbling thunder sounded from the gates. The ground quaking below. Then, as if spreading her malicious arms wide, Kaas City opened her gates, welcoming them inside her enchanted prison.

Rising to his feet, Vader recalled the holocron from the air and stood tall, a sinister confidence surrounding his Force presence. With a growl, he charged for the gates, not once looking back.

Following the Sith inside, the party came to a stop before the chaotic monstrosity laid before them. There were towering stone buildings everywhere, some with haunting, robed statues, others with pylons, their tattered and weathered banners violently flapping in the air. All connected via a complex series of walkways, both elevated and ground based. The city seemed to go for miles, morphing and dwarfing the duracrete landscape.

This was a different kind of jungle. A duracrete jungle. Reminiscent of the underground levels of Coruscant, yet more elegantly constructed. Puddles littered the perfectly paved streets, the never-ending rain rippling their surface and pattering on the surrounding stonework.

Standing before the main entrance, Vader lifted the holocron into the air. He strode up the grandiose walkway, between the massive robed statues looming either side and stopped at the stone stairs. As big as he was, the building ahead dwarfed him.

Built like a giant metronome, with three torn red banners hanging on its facia, the building exuded an all-consuming, festering darkness.

The holocron shot a bright beam of red light forward, piercing the night. Immediately, as if in a trance, the Sith charged ahead, following it like a beacon.

Obi-wan turned to Commander Appo standing alongside him, and cleared his throat. "Look, I know you probably don't remember me, but I must ask."

Appo kept his blaster ready and swung his helmet to face him.

"Have you ever seen him do anything like that before?"

"I have seen Lord Vader do many unexplainable things, Jedi," Appo answered, shifting his attention back to the building. "But that was a first."

He motioned for his men to fall in and started forward. As the troopers moved toward his back, he quickly stopped and spun back to face him.

"And just for the record, _General_ _Kenobi_ ... we _all_ remember who _you_ are."

Before Obi-wan could respond, the trooper Commander marched forward, leading his men up the main walkway in pursuit of the Sith. _Hang on a minute._ He launched into a jog and made his way back up to the Commander.

"Commander, you said you remember me. That you all remember me," he asked, catching his breath.

"That is what I said," Appo replied, not slowing down.

"Then, how is it you haven't tried to kill me? Why haven't any of you? Wasn't that your mandate set by the Emperor? To kill every single Jedi?"

"It was," he said, as if it were old news. "But we no longer follow _those_ specific orders."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Obi-wan said, keeping pace.

Appo stopped mid-step and motioned for the rest to keep going. He looked around then turned his helmet back to him.

"Look, General Kenobi, many things have changed since the Clone Wars ended. And I'm not just referring to the Jedi. The men you see here, they all serve Lord Vader and Lord Vader _alone._ "

Obi-wan scratched his beard in confusion. "But, how is that possible?" he asked. "Weren't you all programmed to directly follow the Emperor's orders?"

The last squad of troopers marched passed them. Appo watched them leave and hushed his voice.

"Ever since the end of the war, clones have been disappearing. We are being phased out one battalion at a time. When Lord Vader caught wind of what was going down, he immediately summoned us to the med-center on board the Exactor and had our chips surgically removed so we couldn't be identified."

"He _actually_ did that?"

"Yes, and we respect him for it. As for you _not_ being dead yet, it is because he trusts you, and that is reason enough for us."

"What makes you think that he trusts me?" Obi-wan asked, turning with the trooper as he spun around to follow the others.

"Look around. Do you see any other _outsiders_ with him on this mission?"

Obi-wan did as he suggested then shook his head dismissively. "I guess I can see your point."

"You know as well as I do, who he really is behind that mask, but the others don't. So do us all a favour and keep it to yourself, alright?"

Appo turned his attention back to the building and continued walking.

"Play it cool, General, and we'll all get along just fine. But be warned, step one foot out of place, make any attempt at taking him down, and you will learn the hard way, why they call us _Vader's Fist._ "

• • •

Vader had no idea how long he'd been walking for, or where in fact he was heading, but he knew he had to keep going.

He was getting close. So close. He could feel it.

Stair case after stair case. Through dusty chambers, pushing through seized doors that hadn't been opened in centuries. Fatigue slowly creeping up on him, the cybernetic legs getting heavier with each step.

Through the vision at the gates, Malgus had shown him images of a grand central chamber. It vaguely reminded him of the Citadel he'd seen in previous visions. That was what he was looking for.

When he'd held the holocron in the air as he approached the stairs, Malgus had told him what he needed to do. The City had gone dormant in the many years since its abandonment, and now he had to reawaken it.

He just had to keep going.

A warning alert flashed across the HUD in his mask.

 _WARNING! POWER LEVELS AT 10%._

Great. If only he'd had the foresight to charge up the suit before he left. But it wasn't as though he'd been thinking clearly. He'd been far too busy obsessing over their argument to think about anything else.

He stopped at another long staircase and leant onto the railing to rest. The respirator stalled and restarted. Sidious had warned him this could happen and he'd dismissed it. But now he understood. He knew he'd over-exerted himself. Using the Force to that magnitude had left him feeling light-headed and woozy. His stomach twisted and churned into knots, threatening to revolt at any moment.

If he and Padmè hadn't have had that argument, she probably would've insisted that he eat something before he left.

He really was useless.

The sound of his troopers echoed from behind. They were slowly catching up to him. About time too. It was taking them long enough. Now, to just find the strength to pull himself away from the railing and keep moving. The holocron pulsed in his hand.

"I know ... I know. I'm moving," he groaned, pushing his body up. His legs quivered before re-engaging. One boot in front of the other, he descended the steps, feeling the oppressing weight of his water-logged cloak dragging on the floor behind him.

Finally reaching the landing, he paused before the two reinforced blast doors and tried to catch his breath.

KHOOSH ... CLICK ... THUMP ... PUUHR.

KHOOSH ... CLICK ... THUMP ... CLICK ... PUUHR.

Another warning flashed across the HUD.

 _WARNING! POWER LEVELS CRITICAL!_

Vader groaned. He didn't have much longer. Drawing on the Force to stay upright, he heaved the doors opened and staggered inside.

Seeing the circular chamber was like a breath of fresh air. Not that he could remember what that even felt like anymore. The grey walls encircled him, reaching up into a high crescendo, decorated with glittering stained glass windows that allowed the moonlight to shine through. At the peak was a long spike that reminded him of some type of power conductor.

He shook his head and refocused. He needed to do this before his suit gave out.

Stumbling forward, he squinted his eyes through the intermittent flicker in his mask.

The center spire was dead ahead. Just a few more steps. The holocron thrummed in his hand. Less than half a meter from the holo-table, his legs gave out and he lunged his arm forward to grab it. Pulling himself forward, he drew his knees beneath him and pushed his body up, his respirator stalling.

Gasping for air, he fought the wave of claustrophobic paranoia that suddenly washed over him. Hand shaking, knees trembling, he held the pulsing holocron up and it shot from his grip. He watched in shock as it flew high into the air and suspended itself midway between the spike and the holo-table. It started to spin.

 _WARNING! VITAL SYSTEMS FAILURE! POWER SHUTDOWN IMMINENT._

He rasped in another shallow breath and felt his fingers slip.

Obi-wan rushed down the stairs with Commander Appo and his troopers. Bursting into the circular chamber, his jaw dropped at the sight. Spinning out of control in mid-air was the Sith holocron, burning red energy swarming around it. Below was Vader, holding on to a round holo-table for support. His legs were shaking and his breathing ragged.

A blinding surge of electricity suddenly exploded in the ceiling, the white hot forks hitting the holocron. The prism rattled and shook through its rotations then erupted with an almighty boom.

A shockwave of energy catapulted into the air, strikingly similar to the pulse of an EMP cannon. Obi-wan was thrown on his back, staring up at the ceiling as one by one, searing red talons of lightning descended upon them.

Bursting fireballs exploded from the ground where ever they touched, dousing the stale air in smoke. One hit Vader slumped on the floor. He screamed out, the vocoder crackling and distorting.

"NO!" Obi-wan cried, scrambling to his feet and hurrying over to him. He lifted his head to rest on his knees and reached out into the Force.

The building quaked violently, shaking the centuries old dust from every nook, cranny and corner. The particles dancing in the backdraft, turning into miniature dust-storms that drifted high on the air.

Commander Appo and his men slowly rose to their feet, temporarily blinded by the flash-fire. He shook his head and caught sight of his Supreme Commander collapsed on the floor, his helmeted head being cradled by the Jedi.

"GENERAL, DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE?" Appo called out over the chaos.

Obi-wan glanced between the Sith and his trooper in a daze. He heard Vader's respirator click and thump and immediately turned his attention back to him.

"Obi-wan," Vader croaked, reaching up and squeezing his hand. "Tell the Commander ... to get his men ... _out_ of here. I don't want ... them seeing me ... like this."

"Are you alright?"

"I ... will be ... fine," he moaned, allowing his hand to slide free. "The suit ... it's ... shutting down ... I ... just need ... to rest ... for a minute."

Obi-wan wiped the dust from his face and sighed. "If that's what you want." He laid the Sith's head back down and pushed up from beside him. With a precautionary glance, he made his way over to Commander Appo.

The explosive chaos was dwindling down. The red fires evaporating into thin air. Upon the walls dim lights had started to appear.

"How is he?" Appo asked, his men stumbling up from the ground around him.

"He says he's fine," Obi-wan said, folding his arms. "He wants you to take your men back outside, and that he will regroup with you all shortly."

Appo glanced at Vader then turned back to the Jedi. "Remember what I said, Kenobi," he warned, cocking his blaster. "Don't go trying anything foolish."

"I haven't forgotten, Commander," he said, staring him down. "Now get your men out of here and keep your eyes open for a map or something. If we are going to be staying here, we'll need a place to set up camp."

"Will do. We'll meet you _both_ outside."

Turning back to his men, Commander Appo lead the troopers out of the chamber, their white armour clattering up the stairs.

Obi-wan sighed and headed back to Vader. He was still lying on the floor, not making any attempt to move. Kneeling down beside him, he took his prosthetic hand in his and squeezed it tight. "Are you still awake in there?" he asked, watching his chest for movement. "Anakin? Can you hear me?"

Vader squeezed his hand. "Yes," he croaked.

"Come on then. Let's get you back on your feet."

"Just ... give me ... a minute," he growled. "This isn't ... easy."

An ice cold chill filtered into the air, and it took all of Obi-wan's strength not to yank his hand away in protest. He could feel the darkness building and rippling from the Sith. It built and built until finally the respirator fired back up.

The lights on his belt and chest plate reignited.

He laid in silence, the Force humming around him.

"Alright, I'm ready," Vader growled, dropping his hands down and slowly dragging his knees up.

Obi-wan took his hand and stared into the lenses of his mask. "Up you get, Anakin," he said, helping the Sith to his feet.

"Don't call me that," Vader grunted, staggering forward and nearly toppling face first to the floor. With his arm around Kenobi's shoulder, they started for the doors.

"Well I'm not calling you Lord Vader," Obi-wan retorted, helping him walk. "So I guess you're just going to have to deal with it."

They slowly stumbled across the circular floor, the Sith's legs awkwardly moving.

"I hate you," Vader grumbled.

Obi-wan leaned into him, keeping his eyes on the staircase. "I know," he whispered.

"I mean it."

"Whatever you say, Anakin."

Hidden within the shadows, a ghostly black robed figure folded its arms, watching the Sith and Jedi make for the door. He snickered and moved to follow them. "If only your Master could see you now, Lord Vader," Darth Malgus sneered, vanishing into the moonlight.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

So I gave up trying to squeeze everything into this chapter. In your head, the scenes always seem so much simpler than on paper. The joys of writing I guess.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I'll tie the loose ends up in the next one.

As always, thank you all for your reviews/follows and favourites, you guys are beyond patient and amazing.

Feel free to leave any questions and I'll be more than happy to answer them after the finale.

MTFBWY.


	41. Chapter 38: Umbrae Cadunt

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 _Just a quick note. I had to go on hiatus for a while and for that I apologise. My heartfelt thanks go out to all of you who are still reading/following/favouriting/reviewing for your patience. Life is such a challenge at the moment and I find myself so emotionally drained and exhausted, that I can't keep my eyes open long enough to write when I get home from work._

 _For those of you who are in isolation or quarantine at the moment, please stay healthy and safe._

 _And, although I pray to the Force that this isn't the case, if any of you are ill, my heart goes with you. Please stay strong and hang in there. We will get through this x._

 _So double upload tonight, the final chapter of this episode will be published in the next few hours._

 _ **MTFBWY**_

 _ **X X X**_

* * *

 **CHAPTER 38: UMBRAE CADUNT**

"The shuttle has left," Obi-wan said, walking into the palatial suite they'd discovered. "Although, I'm not convinced bringing them all here is the wisest of moves."

"Duly noted," Vader remarked, turning his attention back to the fusion furnace connected to his suit.

Moonlight shimmered through the floor length window doors, bouncing off the railing of the portico just outside. Rain scattered sheets over the city, playing with the now illuminated lights that danced in the night. It was hard to believe that just short of two hours ago Kaas City was previously abandoned and left for ruin. Now, centuries of ruinous existence blown away in an instant by some supercharged, Sith holocron induced EMP, it was as pristine as any other industrialised monstrosity Obi-wan had had the pleasure of stumbling into. Albeit, utterly infested with darkness.

He crossed the room, briefly glancing around the opulent chamber and slumped into a chair opposite the brooding Sith.

"So we're back to not talking to each other again, I assume?" he asked, dragging his hand through his dirt encrusted fringe.

"Indeed," the Sith said.

Obi-wan sighed, watching Vader remove the glove from his flesh and blood hand and flex his fingers. Here he was thinking they had started to make progress. Obviously he was mistaken. Looking around, he wondered what they were going to do now they had finally arrived. He contemplated asking, but judging by the current climate, doubted he'd get any sort of answer.

What was this place anyway? It had to be somewhere of great significance to someone eons ago, as the strategic defences it had in place were overkill to the max. Gundark guard dogs – as Vader had called them – Ysalamiri projecting a Force-shield around the perimeter, it screamed all kinds of keep out.

"Must you insist on thinking so loudly?" Vader said.

"First I can't talk, now I can't think," Obi-wan said. "Next you'll be telling me not to breathe."

"I was unaware that was an option."

"It isn't," Obi-wan said pointedly, folding his arms.

The black mask turned to him. "Pity."

They sat in silence for another few minutes. Vader adjusted the controls on his suit while Obi-wan tried to come up with explanations in his head.

"How long are you going to keep on pretending you aren't conflicted?" Obi-wan asked with a huff. "Why deny it? Who are you trying to fool?"

"It is not so much as fooling someone," Vader said nonchalantly. "More, a refusal to give power to something that is pointless."

"So you're just going to ignore the truth in the hope it will go away?"

"Something like that."

"In my experience, ignorance and hope don't work, Anakin. If anything, they only serve to exacerbate the situation."

"And yet you remain a faithful servant to those exact beliefs, Kenobi."

Vader disconnected the power cables from his suit, seeing the recharged confirmation message appear. Replacing his glove, he tugged it down, realigning it over his fingers. He rose to his feet, took two steps to the window, clasped his arms at his lower back and stared out over the reawakened cityscape. The Force was whispering, the Dark Side touching at his mental shields. A brief stretch out with his senses confirmed it wasn't his Master, but _another_ presence – hidden, concealed within the shadows.

But it was difficult to pin down. Ominously drifting in and between the latent power echoes of the city itself. He stretched further.

"And you are blinded by your own hatred," the Jedi stated from behind. "So consumed by your fear, so drunk on your new power, that you can't see reality for what it truly is."

"Spare me your lectures. They are both inane and irrelevant," he said, trying to focus. The Dark side whispered again. Even closer this time. It bristled his scarred skin, tingled in the tips of his fingers. Whatever this lingering presence was, it desired an audience.

"Why hold on to your hate?" Obi-wan asked. "You have everything you wanted. Power, Padmè, the death of everything I held dear. What else in the galaxy is there?"

Vader tried to ignore his inquest, but struggled to hone in on the Force through the light-sider's endless prattle. He spun to face his former master, clenching his hand. "Your ignorance is abhorrent," he said. "Spoken like a true Member of the Jedi Council. You are as blind as what they were and twice as apathetic."

"How do you come to that conclusion?" the Jedi Master demanded. "I defended you. I broke the code for you." He closed the distance between them and folded his arms. "I knew of your clandestine relationship with Padmè – however understated – and kept it to myself, relieved that you'd finally found someone who made you happy."

"Be careful, Kenobi," Vader warned. "You are at risk of showing emotion. That's not the Jediway."

"Your arrogance was always your failing. One would think having your arse handed to you on Mustafar would've gifted you with some humility, but no. You're just as arrogant and obstinate as you always were. Only now, the fate of the entire galaxy is at your feet."

Vader's fists loosened as the Jedi huffed and walked away. The Dark side stalked him, testing the Light.

Obi-wan stopped by the threshold. "You were both right and wrong, Anakin."

Vader crossed his arms and inclined his ventilator.

"You didn't die on Mustafar. Merely showed your true colours. And I was blind. Blind as to who you really were and in the belief I could actually help you." Taking a deep breath, he made an effort to calm himself, feeling the Dark side swarming around him. This city, this situation, this companywas toxic. He could feel it literally poisoning him, peeling away his inner self-balance layer by excruciating layer.

With one last look over his shoulder he made a silent promise to himself – he would not fall. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Come and find me when you do eventually come to your senses. Perhaps then, we can even work out, together, how to best go about dealing with your _new_ Master."

The Dark Lord watched him leave, feeling his aura dripping with pain. The dragon latched on, suckling at the emotion like a hungry newborn as it filtered across their bond. The ever resilient Negotiator, suddenly giving in to his emotions.

"I must say, watching the two of you interact is ... rather entertaining," a deep, synthetic voice said from behind.

Vader spun on his heel, suddenly on high alert. He gripped his lightsaber. "Show yourself," he hissed. "I'm in no mood for petty shadow games."

A robed figure emerged from the corner, a dark mist swirling at his feet. Two red lights shone either side of his triangular ventilator and his burning gold eyes glowed within the shadow of his hood. "I do not play games, Lord Vader," the voice warned.

"Darth Malgus," Vader said, releasing his weapon. "So... it was your presence I sensed approaching."

The ethereal Sith folded his arms, the fluid movement lifting his cloak, revealing his bulky body armour. They were matched size for size. Their armour a similar combination of bodily protection and life support system.

"Yes. And it would appear your internal conflict has not ill-affected your adept skills of perception," Malgus said. "Although I do question your peculiar taste in associates."

"The Jedi and I have reached an understanding," the Dark Lord said defensively.

"That much is apparent. Your former Master, however, is persistent. He hangs on to your memory as if it alone has the power to turn you back."

Vader looked to the door, half-expecting Kenobi to walk back in. He folded his arms and snorted. "He is deluded. That boy is dead."

"Deluded or not, the Jedi has a dark stain on his heart," Malgus said. He turned back to him, a bright fire burning in his eyes. "One that given sufficient motivation would be easy to manipulate."

"Kenobi cannot be turned, Malgus," Vader stated with knowing confidence. "His high sense of morality is insurmountable."

The ethereal Sith led them both to the glass doors to gaze out at the City. The rain continued its deluge, making the slippery transparisteel and duracrete shimmer in the moonlight. They folded their arms and stared, the cycle of their breathing hissing in harmony.

"How did you get here, Malgus?" Vader asked. "I was of the impression you were unable to return to this realm."

"Under normal circumstances that would be accurate. However, thanks to you delivering my holocron to Korriban, I am finally home. The Citadel Spire released me during the reawakening."

Malgus turned to him, his emblazoned stare penetrating. He placed his hand upon Vader's pauldron, sending an icy chill through his skin. "And as a token of my gratitude, I offer my home to you. Kaas City is yours, Lord Vader. All of her. She will help you, along with all of the souls who remain trapped here."

Vader turned to him, a mix of pride and confusion filling him. But what good was a City without its inhabitants? Left to fester and rot as it was, without so much of a whisper of its existence to the galaxy at large. "You mentioned the formation of an army. Without beings to enlist, that seems unlikely."

"Force users spanning the galaxy will no doubt have sensed the City's call ... they will come." Malgus squared himself, standing before him chest to chest. "I have a gift for you. One that will inspire and unlock the greatness lurking within you."

"A _gift?_ "

"Kneel before me and I will show you."

Hesitantly, Vader lowered to one knee, keeping his helmeted head bent low. He focused on taking slow and steady breaths.

"See," Malgus instructed, touching the top of his helmet.

Visions pulsed in his mind. Rage. Power. Victory. Vader stood triumphantly before a sea of glowing red sabers. His army, standing victoriously at his back on the floor of the Jedi Temple Grand Hall. Sidious slain at his feet. His withered body turning to dust.

Star Destroyers surrounding orbit of Coruscant, each with two members of his army at the helm, basking in their glory.

The Galaxy at his heel, kneeling before him in submission.

"See what you will become," Malgus said. "It is yours, your destiny, you need only take it. Seize the Darkness."

Swimming in the sensation, Vader rose to his feet. Power swelling in his veins. The visions were so real he could taste the sweet spoils of victory, the sticky molasses of his Master's blood dancing on his tongue. With an ungraceful shake of his head, he focused back on the ethereal Sith standing before him and hungrily cleared his throat. "Where do I start?" he said, clenching his fists tight.

Malgus laughed. "Your training starts here. I will teach you how to truly harness your powers. But first, you must find an apprentice to practice on and bring them to the sparring chamber."

"An apprentice? But, the Rule of Two —"

"— Is obsolete."

The glass doors blew open, a violent gust blustering into the room. The ethereal Sith strode out onto the balcony, his black cloak rippling in the air. With a glance back he said: "Remember Skywalker, the pathway to the Dark Side is through Fear."

Vader watched him ascend into the night, his form morphing with the rain then vanishing from sight. Finally he was getting answers, now he just needed to find an apprentice and his training could start.

He lifted his head. The shuttles had arrived. With a flourish of his cape, he turned and strode for the doors.

• • •

Obi-wan stood in the Grand Foyer accompanied by Commander Appo and a handful of troopers. He was thankful to be away from the Sith, if even for only a short while. His presence was oppressing, the radiating waves of hate and anger hammering away at his resolve. To make matters worse it appeared as though the City itself was encouraging it, the malevolent energy serving to amplify that of Vader. For all his Jedi training, the Order had never prepared him for something like this. Why would they have needed to? As far as the Order was concerned, the Sith had been extinct for over a millennia.

Anakin was right in that respect, they had all been blind. He shook off the depressing thought.

"So Commander, have your men settled in to their sleeping quarters alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, this place is ... it's something else," Appo answered.

"You're not wrong there," he agreed with a sigh.

Appo shifted his feet. "Word has it we're gonna be here a while."

"Yes. I did get that impression, but he hasn't confirmed it." He folded his arms watching the trooper escort party start to file in.

Padmè walked up the stairs cradling one of the twins, surrounded by the rest of the girls and a seemingly large group of officers. She had her black velvet cloak drawn over her head in an effort to fend off the dreary weather. But the rain appeared to have made short work of soaking the garment judging by the way it draped.

The officers barked out commands to their ground staff as they escorted hover crates left and right. Surprisingly they all seemed to know exactly where they were going.

"Yep. Definitely here for the long haul," Appo said, laying his blaster over his shoulder. "Well ... suppose we should go help them find their way around."

"I suppose we should. I'll take the girls upstairs. It doesn't look as though he will be joining us any time soon."

Appo laughed and started forward. "You'll get used to that. He keeps to himself most of the time."

"Obi-wan," Padmè greeted with Luke in her arms. "You're alright."

"Yes, I'm fine Padmè," he answered quietly, his gaze drifting around their surroundings. Several officers had taken a keen interest in them and were currently staring, some even reaching for blasters.

"Where is Anakin?" she asked.

"Shh, not down here."

A shiver suddenly swept over her, making every hair stand on end. Her eyes were drawn to the ceiling, looking up at the upper-most levels of the building. She saw him, a looming black shadow leaning on the balcony railing overlooking the foyer. A surge of emotion hit her as he turned away and disappeared.

"Is he still brooding?" she asked.

"When isn't he?" Obi-wan said, putting his arm around her back. "Come on, I'll take you up to him. Something tells me not everyone on the ship knows who we are."

• • •

Jaina kept pace behind Padmè and Obi-wan as they left the turbo-lift, the Doctor and Handmaiden either side of her. Leia fussed in Sabè's arms and she tried to settle her. The young Skywalker no doubt sensed what she could – the chill of the Dark side throbbing in the air.

They passed door after door. In her mind, the sterile corridor walls breathed, pulsing in-and-out in time with the Force. The thick carpet muffled their footsteps, its red hue reflecting off the steel-grey duracrete.

Master Kenobi stopped at the last door. His expression was tense, like he was somewhere else, listening. He too, seemed affected by the darkness, it hovered about him like a storm cloud.

"He's in here," he said, turning to them. "Sabè, I'll take Leia and go in first with Padmè. The rest of you, follow my lead." Taking the infant from the Handmaiden, he nodded to Padmè and opened the door.

It felt like they had suddenly entered a dark tunnel – the air thick and heavy. No one spoke. Even Sabè, who was forever voicing her opinions seemed to know better. The rustling of robes echoed in the silence, the only noise audible as they drew closer.

They reached the end and paused at an open doorway. That's when Jaina finally heard it – the steady rasp of the Sith's respirator. Her heart started to race. Master Kenobi glanced back then guided them inside.

The chamber seemed to swallow them whole. Triangular lights dotted the high walls and there was a large command desk off to the right. To the left sat a long sofa, separated in two by another recessed doorway.

But her attention was instantly drawn to the Dark Lord at the far end of the room.

He looked like a god, standing with his cloaked back to them in front of two glass doors that overlooked the City. His presence was dominating, rumbling through the Force like a thunderstorm.

"Welcome to Kaas City," Vader said. "My officers will deliver your belongings shortly. I suggest you unpack and get comfortable. You are going to be here for a while."

Jaina couldn't help but stare. Despite the rough way he'd manhandled her when they were captured, she still couldn't dislodge the need to understand him. The Force had chosen to show her those dreams and visions. There had to be a reason, it never acted without purpose.

"We're staying here?" the Handmaiden asked, turning to Obi-wan. "I thought he was taking us back to Coruscant."

"Not now, Sabè," the older Jedi said, looking back to the Sith.

"How long are we staying here, Anakin?" Padmè asked.

Vader slowly turned around and folded his arms over his chest. "For as long as I deem it necessary," he said.

Emotions started to spiral out of control and Jaina struggled to focus through them. Beside her, the Doctor appeared unperturbed, her green eyes meeting her own. Confusion and frustration rippled from the Sith's wife in front of her. But she seemed to be reserving her objections for later. Disappointment was written all over Master Kenobi's face, as he adjusted the infant cradled in his arms.

But two surges of anger clashed in the middle of it all. One from the Handmaiden and the other from Vader. Only, hidden behind his was a salivating dragon, preparing to strike. It dared her to give him an excuse to be released. Jaina could see it. A creature borne of fire, eyes flaming amber and gold, methodically sizing up its victim.

The black mask shifted. The obscuring lenses suddenly angled straight for her. He dropped his arms and rested his hands on his belt.

Jaina shivered. Cold needles stabbed at her shields.

" _I see you, Padawan."_

She stifled a gasp and tried to pull away.

" _You can not hide from me."_

The room around her started to spin. Their voices turning to whispers. A suffocating weight crushed her chest, the vice tight grip stealing her breath. Suddenly drowning, she clamped her eyes shut and tried to fight back.

He dragged her under.

" _Foolish girl. Did your Master never warn you not to stray into the shadows?"_

Jaina rubbed her eyes and looked around. _"Where am I?"_

The Dark Lord, cloaked and armourless, appeared in the darkness. _"Your location is irrelevant,"_ he said.

" _I don't understand what is happening,"_ she said, rubbing her eyes again. She heard muffled voices in the distance but could only see him.

Vader growled and folded his arms. _"You breached my shields and I caught you."_

" _But how?"_ sheasked _._

He started to circle her. _"That is what I intend to find out."_

A tight pressure formed in her mind. Closing her eyes, she fought to stay upright. She grabbed her forehead, as if the futile effort could prevent it from exploding.

" _I sense much fear in you, Padawan. Fear of abandonment. Of failure. Of loss of purpose. Yet, you do not fear me. Why?"_

His voice seemed to surround her, echoing in the deepest pit of her psyche. She turned in place and tried to face him.

" _I know who hides behind that mask you wear,"_ she said.

The pressure dissipated.

" _Indeed,"_ he snarled.

She spun around to stare at the Sith.

He growled, his burning eyes piercing the dark. _"I assure you, on that, you are gravely mistaken."_

Jaina stared him down. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. To be face to face and alone with the former Chosen One. She steeled her nerve and matched his stance.

The muffled voices suddenly got louder. They were arguing again. She could just make out Sabè yelling. He'd heard them too, his hooded head snapping to the side, completely distracted.

" _This is not over, Padawan,"_ he said, and abruptly vanished from sight.

Jaina shook her head and tried to focus. Everything around her a blur. A dark shadow thundered passed her.

"That is quite enough, Sabè," she heard the Jedi warn.

"No, Obi-wan!" the handmaiden said. "I don't like this. This whole situation feels wrong!"

As her vision finally cleared, it became apparent their voices were coming from another room. The Dark Lord had now positioned himself just before the split sofa facing the recessed doorway. He was eerily quiet, his respirator silent.

"I appreciate your concern, Sabè. But, I made this decision knowing the risks involved, and I stand by it," Padmè said.

"But he's holding you prisoner, My Lady. If he truly loved you he would let you leave, not keep you trapped in this."

"Sabè, Padmè is here of her own volition," Obi-wan said. "Your over-protectiveness isn't helping matters."

"What if he hurts her again, Obi-wan? Or the children? What if this time he actually kills her? Why am I the only one who can see he is dangerous?"

Vader stood fists clenched and body rigid. She could see his dragon being forcibly restrained. There was something shifting in his presence, a riptide in the Force. It was clear their conversation was affecting him. In a flash, he spun on his heel and turned away.

Jaina went to follow, calling out to him. "Master Skywalker wait-"

He snapped around midstride, gloved fingers clawed into pincers. She grabbed her throat.

"Call me by that name again," he growled, "and I will destroy you."

He released her and turned away. With a wave of his hand the wall opened, revealing a dark stairwell and he charged inside.

Jaina looked over her shoulder, sensing the others about to join her. She knew she should've stayed put; that Obi-wan would've cautioned her to keep her distance; that her obsession with the Sith would end up getting her into trouble.

But they'd connected again, however accidental. And what she'd just felt barrelling through the Force from him, was enough to tell her that she was meant to follow.

Throwing caution to the wind, she used the Force to open the wall and ran after him.

• • •

Obi-wan stepped into the main chamber shaking his head. He could understand where the handmaiden was coming from, but she had no tact. Fancy yelling such things with only a wall separating her from the very man she was damning. Foolish woman. Was she trying to get herself killed?

He suddenly stopped, turning in place and stroking his beard. That was odd. Anakin and Jaina had both been here when he'd gone into the bedroom. He'd had no warnings from the Force. Or if there were, he hadn't noticed.

"My Lady, please," the handmaiden said, following her mistress into the chamber.

Obi-wan tried to block her out.

"I grow tired of this argument," Padmè said, turning around to face her and folding her arms.

This was going to be interesting. He was used to hearing that tone from her husband. The very last thing he expected was to hear it coming from her.

The handmaiden stopped.

"Sabè, you have been nothing but supportive over the years," Padmè said, starting to pace. "You held me together when I thought all hope was gone and I had nothing left to live for."

She stopped and spun to face her, pointing her finger.

"So, in honour of that loyalty, I am giving you a choice. You can either stay by my side or you can leave. But know this. If you do indeed choose to remain here, you do so respectfully. Anakin is my husband and the father of my children. You will respect him as such. No longer will you insult and antagonize him, for whatever reason, under any circumstance. Is that clear?"

"Yes, My Lady," the handmaiden said, dropping her head. "Sorry, My Lady. Please ... forgive me."

Padmè huffed and folded her arms. "I am not the one you should be apologizing to."

"Yes, well ..." Obi-wan said, interrupting their moment, "as entertaining as that would be, we would need to find him first."

"Where do you suppose he went, Obi-wan?" Padmè asked.

He stroked his beard. "I'm not sure exactly, but it looks like he has taken Jaina with him."

"Why would he do that?"

Crossing the room, he sat on the split sofa and sighed. "I don't know..."

• • •

Jaina felt her way down the stairs, running her hands along the wall, following the steady rasp and thud of the Dark Lord. She blinked, but each time the darkness returned. With no light to guide her, she quickly but carefully checked every step.

His presence drifted on the Force like a heady scent trail, dragging her deeper into the abyss. The claustrophobic passage sunk further and further, the stairs never-ending.

The sounds changed and suddenly stopped. She held her breath. Had he heard her following? Could he see her somehow? She checked her shields. They were still intact.

A light appeared in the distance. A subtle white glow illuminating the landing. She hugged the wall and edged closer, slowly creeping down the stairs toward the light. She could hear him again, the rasp in and out.

Her foot finally touched the floor. The light came from an open door to her left. Staying close to the wall, she crouched down and peered around the corner.

Vader deactivated the map-reader in his heads-up display and surveyed the room. It was coded as a communications hub, but he doubted that was its primary purpose. With containment cells embedded in the rear wall and an upright restraining bench tucked in the far corner, it resembled more of an interrogation chamber than a comm room.

He strode over to an old command desk and brushed off the surface. It was crude and basic, but the essentials were still there. The switches and dials appeared to all be intact. Providing it had power, he should be able to make it work.

He was grasping at straws now, trying to sort out the chaos in his mind. Padmè wanted to leave him. Kenobi was trying to get close to him. Kriff, even the untrained padawan had managed to penetrate his shields.

 _Focus!_

Pulling the tools from his belt, he set to work.

His mind continued to wander.

Then there was Malgus, leading him here to build and train some fictitious army. Sure, Kaas City was powerful, he'd felt it at the gates, but was that enough? At least the apprentice part was easy, that padawan had enough fear to work with. Yes, he should be able to manipulate her. But it was one thing to pledge yourself to the dark side and another entirely to truly commit to it. That would be her real challenge.

Of course, Kenobi would try and stop him.

He stopped and gritted his teeth, squeezing the screwdriver in his prosthetic hand.

He could kill him. He _should_ kill him. Padmè would eventually forgive him that indiscretion. Even she could understand his motivations for doing so.

Pulling himself together, he carried on.

But in reality, he didn't _want_ to kill him. His former Master was suffering. He had felt his self-loathing and guilt slowly eating away at him through their bond.

It was oddly satisfying.

Then there were his children. His two perfect, precious little miracles. And another on the way. What was to become of them? How was he going to keep them safe? From what he'd seen and felt in the swamp, the resident Ysalamiri were doing an adequate job of shielding the City. In theory, their Force signatures were now protected by that. He'd need to test it before trusting it of course.

But he couldn't leave them here alone. Which meant he had two choices: find someone he could trust or take them with him. One thing was for certain, they were not going with Padmè. She couldn't shield them, nor protect them. If anything their signatures would act like a beacon, attracting attention to her and putting her life at risk.

And her life was already at risk. His Master wanted the baby now growing inside her. Force forbid whatever perverted plans he had for it.

The thought made his skin crawl.

As if he hadn't taken enough from him as it was: his confidence, his life, his body, his sanity, his soul. Now he wanted his legacy as well?

 _DAMN HIM!_

He launched the screwdriver across the room. It clanked and banged against one of the cell doors and landed with a thump.

The respirator skipped. His heart pounded.

What if this whole 'Spy on the Rebellion' scheme of his was just another fail-safe?

A way of separating him from Padmè, so he could swoop in, steal her away and use her as leverage?

He'd probably secure her inside the Palace somewhere to ensure his obedience, threatening her safety if he stepped out of line.

He thumped his fists onto the console.

The switches and lights suddenly sparked into life and he smirked.

 _Stupid thing, of course you would work after I beat you. Perhaps I should have tried kicking you first!_

Taking a step back, he folded his arms and tried to calm down. The pause clearing his mind and renewing his focus.

Yes. That was exactly what this sounded like. Another scheme. Another plot. Another twisted trap to keep his beloved _pet_ in-check. Well ... perhaps, it was time for this 'pet' ... to finally bite back.

Flicking the switches, he turned on the console and scanned for a signal. The screen lit up. So far, so good. Now to see if the transmission system was operational. He punched in the secure coordinates and waited for a response.

Behind him the holo-pod started to hum. He turned around. White lights flashed around the base of the circular platform. He was good to go.

He took a moment to secure his shields, not wanting to give away too much. Shields locked in place, he moved to the platform and dropped to one knee.

 _This is where the fun begins,_ he thought darkly, slowly dipping his head into position.

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: SENATE DISTRICT: EMPEROR'S OFFICE_

Sidious looked up from his terminal. A pulse in his mind yanking him from his midmorning routine of perusing the latest updates and reports. It was like the heavy beat of war drums suddenly tugging at his senses. Pulling his hands to his lap, he methodically tapped his fingertips and turned his chair to face the cityscape.

He hadn't felt a ripple quite that significant in a long time. It called to him, demanding his undivided attention.

Oh... and it had it.

He closed his eyes and stretched out. Further and further. Past the jostling speeders. Past the former Jedi Temple. He could see the curvature of Coruscant from orbit, but the call still pulled him. He followed it, deep into the stars, slowly edging closer.

His private comm chirped. Wrenching himself back into his Office, he quickly checked the signal and smiled. Not a joyful smile, but one of wicked pleasure.

"Ah... Lord Vader," he said, narrowing his gaze at the bent down holoimage of his apprentice, "you're early."

" _Yes... My Master."_

Something was off. He sensed an unusual amount of turbulence surging between them. An unorganised chaos of conflicting emotions. As if he was looking at a storm, staring into a black twisting tempest that sparked and churned in fury.

"Do you have something to report?" he asked, feeling along their bond.

His shields were up, but unlike previously, minute cracks had started to appear. Immediately his concerns multiplied. He pushed harder.

" _I have managed to successfully locate the City."_

The cracks trembled and widened, temporarily blinding him like lens flares obscuring his vision. The young Sith Lord's emotions were wild and unchained. Unsettlingly so. He hadn't felt him this unbalanced since the day the young Jedi had reluctantly accepted his fate.

"And?" he asked.

Vader paused and lifted his masked head, the dark lenses boring into him. So far, he'd refrained from forcing his probing from his mind, but the desire was definitely there, he could feel it.

" _Eleven months ago you made a promise to me in your office,"_ Vader said.

This was different. He remembered making many promises, most of which were wholly intended to help seduce the Jedi's prized possession into his servitude. But what was even more interesting was how his apprentice was suddenly referring to that Jedi as _himself_ – something he had been violently opposed to doing since Mustafar.

"To which promise might you be referring, _my Apprentice?_ " he asked, continuing his attack on the young Sith Lord's shields.

His mind was like a crepuscular tomb littered with corroded blast doors that randomly shuddered open and slammed shut. Each door concealed thoughts, memories and secrets. One rattled and shook, thrusting itself open. He caught a glimpse of a bearded man with two haunted grey eyes that stared through him with alarming intensity.

The door crashed shut, shunting him back.

He focused on the conversation.

" _You said I could have anything that I wanted."_

"Yes. I remember," he said, pushing the surprising memory out of mind for the moment. "What is it you desire, Lord Vader? Naboo? A new star destroyer? A palace of your own?"

Another door creaked open. The void behind bleached in virgin light making the occupant inside difficult to distinguish. Forcing his presence deeper he strained to focus. It was ... a _child?_ A blonde child. Blue eyed and curious. What _was_ this? A memory? A vision?

The rumbling baritone of Vader's growl cut through his attention and immediately the door slammed down.

" _No...,"_ Vader snarled. _"The Esstran Sector."_

Wait! He wanted the _Esstran Sector?_ The Sith homeworlds? Sidious bared his yellowed teeth and leant forward. He had his own plans for that sector. Plans that ultimately _didn't_ include him. He hadn't foreseen this.

"Why?" he demanded, barely containing his mounting frustration.

" _You said I could have anything that I want. That is what I want. Are you breaking yet another of your promises?"_

So it seemed the ego of Skywalker had finally returned. He could use this to his advantage.

" _My_ _boy_... you want Esstran? Then it is _yours_ ," he said, rocking back and clasping his hands together. "When you return to Coruscant we will make it official."

" _And the trade and supply routes?"_

"Yes, yes..." he said, dismissively. "We can discuss the particulars upon your arrival."

* * *

Jaina clapped both hands to her mouth. She couldn't believe it. The two Sith were testing each other. Where before she'd been able to sense a tremor of light lingering within the former Jedi, in the presence of his Master she saw only darkness. The realization hit hard.

The transmission phased out and Vader rose to his feet. He clasped his hands behind his back and started to walk forward.

"I detest spies," he grumbled.

She gasped and quickly hid behind the wall, her heart suddenly leaping into her throat. Was he ... was he talking to _her_?

"Did you think I was unaware of your presence?"

Jaina gulped. How long had he known she was here? Was this it? Was he finally going to kill her for this? Her knees quivered. She looked to the stairs. Should she try and make a run for it?

"Interesting... so you _do_ fear me. Perhaps I was wrong about you after all."

She steeled her nerves, rose to her feet and took a deep, calming breath. He sounded disinterested, neither angered nor pleased and it gave her a sudden urge to confront him. "I fear what you have become," she said, stepping into the light, "not who you truly are inside."

Vader turned to her and folded his arms.

"Are you not going to deny it?" Jaina asked.

He spun on his heel and headed for the cell doors then abruptly stopped. "I have decided to reconsider your request."

She stared at his back in disbelief. "Really?" she asked, trying to keep the hope from her voice. "You mean ... you would actually take me on as your apprentice?"

"Yes," he said, turning around again.

She suddenly felt drawn to his side, like some magnetic pull was dragging her forward. Before she could stop herself, she crossed the floor and stopped at his feet. His tinted lenses never once strayed from her face, as if he were scrutinizing her every move. Her heart fluttered, her pulse raced. Unable to speak, she stared up at him and allowed the even rasp of his breathing to fill her senses.

With a wave of his hand she dropped to her knees and dipped her head in submission.

"But first," he said, his rumbling voice a seductive purr, "you must give yourself to me. All of you. Surrender to the Dark Side of the Force."

Vader's close proximity was so intoxicating she could barely keep her eyes open. It was like she was stuck under a heavy blanket, the weight forcing her head closer to the floor. She shuddered in a shaky breath, feeling his presence enveloping her. "I ... I commit myself... to your tutelage."

"Good. Now... close your eyes and release your shields."

The instant she dropped her guard their bond flamed into life. The Dark Side grabbed hold, its chains locking tight. Visions appeared in the shadows. Screams rang in her ears. Blaster fire ricocheted from everywhere. The hum and screech of lightsabers clashing. Her heart raced. What was happening? Where was she?

" _You remember this. Don't you, Padawan?"_

His naked voice echoed from all around. It wasn't Vader's robotic baritone, but rather the deep, silky voice of Skywalker. Her vision cleared. She was standing in the temple on the night of the purge. A blue blade wielded by a dark cloaked figure suddenly slashed through two padawans one level up and they fell to the floor.

" _Why are you showing me this?"_ Jaina cried.

One of the Jedi Knights ran past her, green blade ignited. "RUN PADAWAN!" he yelled, charging forward.

The cloaked figure leaped from the upper level and landed, blocking his path. Two more Knights ran to join the fray. The cloaked figure parried and counter-attacked their blows with ease, mowing down one ... then the other ... before finally moving to deliver the fateful strike on the last.

She turned and fled for the Council Chambers. Reaching the doors, she scrambled inside and stopped, seeing the others from her classes. They were huddled behind the Masters' seats, each one staring wide-eyed at the doors.

" _This isn't my memory! Why are you showing me this?"_ she cried again.

" _Your fears are misplaced. It is time to correct them,"_ Vader countered.

Crouching behind the seats, huddled with the other younglings, she joined them in staring at the doors.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hoping.

The doors creaked open. The cloaked figure strode in. She recognised him now – his shiny, black tabard; his elongated stride.

Sors, one of the blonde boys that was in her lightsaber class, jumped up and went out to seek refuge. "Master Skywalker, there are too many of them! What are we going to do?" he asked.

They all jumped when the blue lightsaber suddenly ignited. In a flash, Sors was no more.

Some tried to run, others went to fight. She jumped from chair to chair in a panic, hearing the screams as one by one, the younglings were taken out. There were only two of them left now. She watched in horror as the last of her friends was killed.

His robed head turned to her as he stalked closer. Too paralysed to react, she stared up into his dead, blue eyes in silence. They all knew his face. The handsome, rugged face of the Chosen One. He said nothing, his glassy daze staring distantly back at her.

As the lightsaber struck true and plunged her into darkness, a burning stab erupted in her neck.

Wrenched from the vision, Jaina's hand flew to her neck. A warm throbbing sensation grew, violently pumping through her veins. It burned and stung, stabbing at her muscles like hundreds of tiny needles. She opened her eyes.

Vader stood before her with a needle in his hand. He opened his belt and stuffed it inside.

"What ... what _was_ that?" she cried, trying to focus on him as the room started to spin.

"Something that will assist you in your transition."

She dropped to all fours, hands shakily braced on the floor. Her body was on fire. "Why ... why did you ... why did you show me _that?_ "

"Now you fear the man... _as_ _well_ as the mask."

He went to leave. The sound of his boots on the cold duracrete echoed in her head. Fighting the crippling sensation, she stared up at his blurry figure walking away. "Wait!" she choked, "my name ... you didn't give me my name!"

He stopped and slowly about-faced, his cloak rippling lazily at his boots. _"Syrennè_. You shall be known as Darth Syrennè. And from now on, _my apprentice,_ you will refer to me as ... _Master_."

"Yes..." she said, bowing her head in subservience, "thank you... _My_ _Master_."


	42. Chapter 39: Vetus Morsus

**Chapter 39: Vetus Morsus**

Obi-wan watched Luke hungrily suck on the bottle and tipped it higher. Padmè sat across from him on the bed with Leia who was softly snoring on her lap. They were all thoroughly exhausted from the continual angst and uncertainty that came with being dragged aimlessly across the galaxy with no apparent end in sight. She'd kept her objections to herself when Anakin had announced they were to be staying here indefinitely but her resolve was weakening, he could sense her growing anxiety seeping into the air between them.

It probably didn't help with her handmaiden insisting on voicing her concerns constantly, but she had unexpectedly put her in her place. Luke suckled and slurped, finally finishing the remaining dribble of milk in his bottle. He carefully pried it from his fingers and placed it onto the table.

Jaina still hadn't returned and neither had Anakin, which only added to his concern. He had his own suspicions as to what was going on between them, the Force had been anything but silent in the last hour and a half during their absence. But what was he to do? The girl was obsessed with him, he'd known this since their sessions back on Tatooine. It was clear that should she decide to drift from her limited Jedi training and join the Sith, there was little he could do to prevent it. Perhaps he should've taken her on as his padawan. At least then he could've guided her away from the darkness he'd sensed lingering inside her.

Who was he kidding?

He couldn't protect Anakin when he had the chance. He'd failed him, and he would've undoubtedly failed her too. He wasn't cut out to be anyone's Master. He wasn't then, and he definitely wasn't now.

" _You're focusing on the negative, Obi-wan. Be mindful of your thoughts."_

His late master's voice echoed in his head. Of course, he would use those exact words now. The very same ones he'd said to Anakin back on Coruscant before all hell broke loose and the galaxy tore itself apart.

" _I wish I knew what to do, Qui-gon,"_ he thought back. _"The Force isn't helping me to see the right path. I know I am losing her too, but I can't decide on whether to try and stop him from turning her, or to just allow destiny to play its hand and see where it takes us."_

" _I cannot tell you what to do. You must make that choice yourself."_

" _I think he is beginning to trust me, but it's a slow process. One that I'm not certain I'll have enough time to complete before we separate."_

" _You seem to have answered your own question. You already know what to do and are seeking confirmation."_

" _I know… it just goes against everything I have ever believed and stood for, Master. It goes against the Jedi Order… and the Council… and the Code."_

" _Trust in the Force, Obi-wan."_

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. Padmè quietly stared at him, her eyes full of questions.

"Where do you think he is?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he said, dropping his gaze to the boy in his lap. He stroked his head absentmindedly, trying to avoid conversation.

"What happened between the two of you out there? Did you manage to talk?"

"We talked a little. But nothing too major. Suffice it to say, I believe we have reached ... oh, I don't know, Padmè ... an understanding of sorts, I guess." He sighed again. Was that what it was? Had they reached an understanding?

Truthfully, he wasn't sure. There was so much between them that remained unresolved. He still couldn't bring himself to trust him, after all, how could anyone, let alone a Jedi, trust a Sith when the very tenet of their core beliefs stemmed from lies and deceit?

"Well, at least he is speaking to you," Padmè said, wiping a tear from her eye. "I feel as though he has suddenly closed himself off from me altogether. Like he is trying to pull away."

"You need to talk to him about it, Padmè. I presume the two of you have had arguments before and sorted it out. This situation is no different."

Part of him ached, seeing her upset, but she couldn't have thought this course of action was going to be easy. Anakin had always been difficult to understand, even at the best of times. His emotional outbursts would frequently seem to appear out of nowhere and they were more often than not a challenge to diffuse. Only now, those behaviours were amplified, aggravated by the Dark Side and its apparent lack of restraint.

"Yes, I suppose you are right. I just miss him terribly, and I can't help but feel that Palpatine is going to try and tear us apart," she said.

He'd been struggling to stay focused on their conversation, but that last point had his attention. Hadn't Anakin said something along those lines, too? They had the same fears yet weren't discussing them with each other. He suddenly suspected what the Force wanted from him.

Anakin's love for Padmè and their children was keeping him tethered to the light. Without them he would complete his transition to the Dark Side, plunging the galaxy into chaos as he went about exacting his emotional rampage on anyone who stood before him.

It didn't matter what happened either side of this _shatterpoint_ — as Mace would have called it — as long as the main connection held strong, the end result would remain the same. What that end result was to be, however... now _that_ was the _real_ mystery.

• • •

Vader strode up the staircase and into his main chamber. He left the wall open so his new apprentice could find her way out. Not that he expected her to emerge any time soon, it would take her body quite some time to metabolize his emergency serum shot. That was an experience he remembered all too vividly. He still shuddered at the thought.

Making his way to the command desk, he grabbed the black hard case propped on the floor and dropped it onto the top. He rummaged through the contents, pulled out the old leather-bound journal and holodisc and sat down. It was time to familiarize himself with Malgus's history and hopefully discover some useful information on the City itself.

Placing the holodisc into the player, he watched Malgus, Eleena and the Sith army ransack the Temple. He studied their lightsaber form and combat styles, paid attention to the way they fought independently, not as a unit like the Jedi. They were powerful but divided. Fighting for the same cause but not united. That was his first learning. His army would work together as one, that was the best strategy. Loyal to each other above all else.

But how would he promote that with _Sith_ warriors? That kind of loyalty only came with brotherhood and trust. From what he knew and was only just beginning to understand, was that _trust_ and the _Sith_ simply did not go together. In-fact they were complete polar opposites.

His Master didn't trust him, and he sure as hell didn't trust him either.

"It all looks rather disjointed if you ask me."

Vader glanced up from the holo to see Obi-wan casually stroking his beard and watching the recording intently.

"They fight for themselves," Vader said, turning his attention back to the vision, "with no regard for each other."

Obi-wan nodded and leaned closer. "Yes... selfish."

"Selfish indeed..." Vader mused. He pointed at two warriors near each other. "You see here? The way they have opponents coming in from several angles?"

"What about it?"

"The perfect opportunity for back to back defence, yet they do not use it."

Obi-wan settled into the seat opposite him and folded his arms. "I see you are putting a great deal of thought into this," he said.

"I need to see where they went wrong," Vader said as he opened Malgus's journal and thumbed through the pages, looking for his entries on the Temple siege. "Everything I have learned so far, leads me to believe that the greatest enemy the Sith armies ever had, were the Sith _themselves_."

The last thing he wanted to do was create and train a battalion of powerful warriors only to have them turn against him and plot out his eventual demise. That was the reason for the implementation of Darth Bane's Rule of Two in the first place, to safeguard the Order and protect their legacy for future generations.

"It almost sounds as if you are planning to build an army of your own," Obi-wan said.

"I am."

"Is that why you suddenly decided to take Jaina and turn her to the Dark Side?"

Vader stiffened. He clenched his fists and rose to his full height. How dare he pretend to be interested in the padawan now. She was _his!_ He'd had more than enough chances. "She came to _me_ ," he growled lowly.

"Oh, I have no doubt. The girl is obsessed with you, so it comes as no surprise."

He relaxed his fingers and folded his arms just below his chest plate. Kenobi was acting so cool, irritatingly so. He'd rocked back in the chair and propped his leg on his knee, in that annoying, condescending manner that he always did. Smug and in control. And he _hated_ it. "If you are not surprised, then what is your point?"

"Well, correct me if I am wrong here... but even if you do train her, doesn't an army require more than just one person? I mean, thanks to _you_ and _your_ _Master,_ you haven't exactly got a legion of force-sensitives left alive to choose from, _have_ you?"

Yes, he'd considered this. He had even challenged Malgus on the exact same issue only hours ago. But there were survivors of Order 66, both him and Sidious were well aware of this. That was his primary mission after all, to seek out and eradicate all remaining Jedi he could find. At least this way, he could still be seen as fulfilling his mandate, only rather than killing any Jedi he found, he would instead try to turn them.

"Do not take me for a fool, Kenobi. I am aware there were survivors. Ferus, Caleb, Jaina and yourself are proof enough of that."

Obi-wan rose from his seat and turned his back to him. He knew him well enough to know that he was deep in thought on the issue. He huffed and spun around.

"So, let me get this straight..." he said, stroking his beard again. "Your plan is to hunt down the remaining Jedi and force them into joining the Dark Side? Do you honestly believe they are going to be quite so obliging? Considering _everything_ you have done?"

That thought had entered his mind. Vader strode over to the glass doors and stared out over the City. This was the problem he was struggling to find a solution for. He needed loyalty, that was non-negotiable. Could he achieve this by forcing them to join him? It was highly unlikely. He sighed, the sound coming out distorted through the vocabulator. "With your ... _help_ , they might be more _agreeable_."

"With _my_ help? What is it you intend to do once you have gathered your so-called army, anyway?" Obi-wan asked.

"I have thought over many scenarios," he said. "The most likely for success being the gradual infiltration of the Imperial military, both Naval and Armed Forces. Once they are in-place, I would then head to Coruscant, confront Sidious and initiate the take-over."

"Providing you could defeat him, what would happen after that?"

He was still working on that part. All that mattered to him at present was ousting his Master and protecting his family, the rest would become clear in its own time. "On that, I am as of yet, undecided."

"Would you consider reinstating the Republic?"

Would he consider that? Padmè would be overjoyed if he did, since, in many ways it often felt as though she'd loved it more than she did him. But the chaos doing that would inherently create. The galaxy was still adjusting to Imperial rule at the moment, with many star systems struggling to assimilate. Changing things now would only make it worse. Possibly inciting yet another Galactic War. Only this time there would be no Jedi out there to oversee it.

"Perhaps... in time, I would consider it," Vader said non-committally. "But not straight away, it would destabilize the already strained governing bodies and potentially force us into another war."

Kenobi seemed to be considering his reasoning. He stroked his beard and circled the space between them, so much so he almost expected there to be a worn-out trench gouged in the floor. After several weighted breaths and a few contemplative sighs, he finally stopped and stared straight into the lenses of his mask. There was no hint of resolve on his face and his brow was cocked in hesitation.

"You have no idea how much I desperately want to be able to trust you, Anakin." He started to pace, shaking his head. "I do... I really do." He spun in place and stared again, his eyes suddenly glistening with tears. "But, how can I? Help me out here! You murdered everyone in the Temple! Including the younglings. You betrayed not only them, but, me as well! And for what? For _him_? For your beloved Chancellor Palpatine who it turned out had orchestrated the entire debacle? If I do help you with this, how do I know for sure you aren't going to do it again?"

Vader turned back to the City and braced his hand on the glass. "I... can only give you my word, Obi-wan," he said, his voice as close to a whisper as the modulator could replicate. "Not that it means much to you anymore."

A heavy silence hovered in the air between them.

"I need to meditate on this, Anakin," he said. "But do yourself a favour while I'm gone and talk to Padmè. She was rather upset when I left her."

Vader watched him leave, his thoughts immediately on his wife. He'd been so focused on Malgus and the City and the Army that he'd completely forgotten about the argument they'd had.

Hopefully Padmè would listen to him this time, because he knew one thing for certain ... this was going to be _anything_ but a pleasant conversation.

* * *

 _YAVIN 4: THE GREAT TEMPLE: MASSASSI HEADQUARTERS_

Meditation. Something that was supposed to bring harmony and peace to the self. But even now, he struggled with it. Too much was going on around them. Not that it seemed to bother Master Olin much. How the man, barely eleven years older than him, could manage to sit there with his eyes closed and block out the chaotic noise from outside was beyond him.

Caleb huffed and trudged to the open-air window. Leaning on the carved-out stone surround, he watched as the different ships pulled in and docked in the clearing. It wasn't that he didn't know how to meditate, back at the temple he had actually been very good at it. He just couldn't stand this waiting game.

The Viceroy seemed satisfied with the Massassi Group for now and if their strength combined with that of the Alderaanian Resistance was enough to make the Empire flinch, then all the better. But, he knew it wasn't any of this that was preventing him from his meditation.

It was Jaina.

Prior to them both deciding to focus on the unusual call they'd sensed through the Force, he'd tried to reach out to her only to come up short. Ferus had also tried to contact Master Kenobi when he too had failed. Of course his adoptive Master had dismissed it, speculating that they could have been too far out of range to secure a signal. But he wasn't convinced.

Something was wrong. He could feel it.

"Caleb, you are allowing your fears to consume you. Be mindful of your thoughts."

He climbed onto the ledge and bent his knees, securing himself in the window. "That's just it, Master. I am being mindful. I am aware that something is or rather _has_ happened to her," he said.

"You don't know that for certain."

He sighed and leaned forward, bracing his folded arms on his knees. "And you don't know that I'm wrong."

"No... I don't," Ferus said, gently placing his hand on his shoulder. "But I am also not losing myself in the meantime."

His Master's eyes glistened down on him with compassion, but it did nothing to ease his concern. Caleb sighed and turned his attention to the stars, as if they concealed the answers he so desperately sought. He relaxed into the window and sighed again. "Master, do you think there are other survivors somewhere out there in the galaxy? Like us, hiding and waiting for the right moment?"

"Senator Organa seems to think so, and I hope on that he is right. He believes he has word on one in the Outer-rim but he has so far been unable to make contact."

"Does he have any idea where?" Caleb asked. "Perhaps we could go there and check it out. They might need our help."

"On the farming moon of Raada."

Both Jedi turned to see the Viceroy joining them in their quarters.

"Who is it?" Caleb asked.

Organa smiled and moved to meet them by the window. "You'll be able to ask them that soon enough."

"You have managed to make contact then, Bail?" Ferus asked, shooting his padawan a cautious glance.

"Yes, approximately one standard hour ago in-fact." The Viceroy folded his arms and gazed up at the sky. "The Jedi are the Galaxy's best hope, and I give you my word, Gentlemen... my men and I will do all that we can to preserve that hope."

Ferus smiled and tapped the Alderaanian Senator on the arm. "And we will do whatever we can to help, Viceroy."

* * *

 _ESSTRAN SECTOR: DROMUND KAAS: KAAS CITY_

Vader stopped, folded his arms and leaned on the doorway, mesmerized by the sight before him. She was so... beautiful. Even now, he still struggled to believe she was alive. Their two miraculous children were fast asleep either side of her, and she was resting against the bedhead reading her datapad.

It was all so surreal... and so utterly heartbreaking.

He released the Force-hold on his respirator, announcing his presence. The instant her eyes found him he was speechless.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back," Padmè whispered.

He dropped his gaze to the floor, a solitary tear trickling down his cheek. He wanted to rage and scream. To cry at her feet. To rip off his armour and bare all, begging for her to stay.

But instead he said nothing. Paralysed by pain and indecision. So un-sithlike. But then, was he ever _truly_ a Sith? He wasn't a Jedi anymore; he knew that much. Were the Sith even allowed to love?

Both his Master and former Master had said that Sith were incapable of feeling such emotions. If that was indeed the case, then where did that leave _him_?

Again, he was lost.

"This isn't going to work if you won't talk to me, Anakin."

He sighed and walked over to the glass doors. Folding his arms, he stared out over the City and huffed. "What is it that you want me to say, Padmè?"

"I want you to be honest with me."

He sighed again. When had he ever been anything _but_ honest with her? "I always have been."

"Lying by omission is still lying, Anakin."

Dropping his arms, he clenched his fists and turned to face her. How could she lecture him on not being honest when she herself was hiding the truth?

"You want to talk about being honest?" he said. "Then how about you starting first?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, slowly wriggling out from between the twins and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Demanding your own ship. Pretending it is so Viceroy Organa will not suspect you. I know you want to leave me. You have Kenobi and the twins now; you no longer _need_ me."

"How can you say that? _I_ reached out to you. _I_ contacted you. Do you have any idea of what I did to get that message to you?"

Vader folded his arms and turned back to the window. "You could have called me, Padmè. You have Commander Appo's comm-unit."

"It went flat. I took Owen and Beru's land-speeder and drove to Mos Espa in the middle of the night. In the middle of the night on _Tatooine_ , Anakin! I risked _everything_ to contact you that night."

That was a brave but foolish move, even for her, but one he was grateful for. There is no way he would ever have gone looking for her on that wretched sand pit of a planet; not without a _very_ convincing lead any way. He turned around. She had stood up now, arms folded and brows furrowed. It made him wonder how she got the message to his men without being questioned in the first place. Had Cody and his team not received the warrants?

"I have been meaning to ask you about that," he said. "Exactly _how_ did you manage to get your message to my men without being apprehended?"

Padmè looked down for the first time since he'd come in. "You really do not want me to answer that," she whispered.

The hushed tone of her voice had alarm bells ringing in his head. Whatever she'd done, she obviously suspected that he wouldn't have approved. And knowing her, she was probably right. All sorts of horrid thoughts flashed about and he suddenly had to know... _now._ He moved closer and used his index finger to gently lift her chin up to look at him.

"What did you do?" he asked, as softly as the vocabulator permitted.

She stared at him in silence, tears creeping into the corners of her eyes. Her lips trembled. "I... I found Watto in a cantina and paid him to get it delivered to the Garrison stationed in Mos Espa."

Watto. The Junkyard. Memory after memory assaulted him. Flashbacks of a life long since gone. His mother. His pod racer. The Boonta Eve Classic. His friends. His _Angel_.

Then the memories went dark. _Very_ dark. The Lars's. His _mother._ The sand people.

 _They're like animals! And I slaughtered them like animals! I HATE THEM!_

The twins moved on the bed. Their tiny arms reaching out for each other across the blankets. He found himself staring at them, wondering how everything in his life had managed to go so horribly wrong. When he'd left his mother all those years ago, he never once thought this would be how he ended up. All of the nights spent staring at the stars, wishing he could free them from slavery. Naively believing that if he became a Jedi, he would be able to.

How wrong he was. The Jedi were just as corrupt and self-serving as every other power-hungry organization in the galaxy. Making him believe he was being freed, when in actuality he was simply being transferred from one owner to another. Only interested in 'rescuing' him from the only life he had ever known so they could use him to fulfil some damn religious prophecy. The ' _Chosen_ _One_ ' they had called him, but his mother had already given him a name.

The thought twisted and churned inside him, ripping open festering wounds that were still far too raw. Padmè had been his guiding light throughout everything and as the years went on, she became his sole purpose, his reason for living. It was never the Jedi Order or the Council or their stupid prophecy. It was never even about the Republic.

The War warped his sense of attachment over time. Each confrontation saw him drift closer to the darkness he'd so unawaredly tapped into at Tatooine, even giving in to his anger and lashing out when there was no-one else around to witness it. His unshakable trust in Obi-wan had been shaken the moment he had ordered him to spy on the only other man he trusted in the galaxy.

"Ani? Are you alright?"

Vader pulled from his thoughts and looked to his wife. She was as precious to him now as she was the very first day he laid eyes on her. But her image was forever stained, tinted crimson through the lenses of his mask. Jaded by his imprisonment and threatened by his new allegiance to his Master and their Empire.

He took a step back and removed his helmet. Placing it on the bed, he lifted his naked head and stuttered in a shallow breath. He needed to remind himself of what she really looked like. Needed to see the warm chocolate hue of her eyes, the gentle pink flush of her cheeks, the luscious red curves of her lips.

Reaching out, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear and edged closer. She stared up at him, as if trying to see what he was thinking and feeling. Another tear slipped away and he fell hopelessly into her gaze. She cupped his cheek, the sensation of her warm skin on his setting off fireworks.

"Please, come back to me, Ani," she pleaded softly. "I miss you."

A lump rose in his throat and his chest clamped tight. "I am... right here, Angel," he whispered, moving forward and resting his forehead against hers. "I have _always_ been here."

Her eyes went wide. She grabbed hold of his head with both hands, tugged him down and kissed him. The sudden forceful contact making him shiver. He let himself fall into her kiss, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. The passion was still there, just as strong as ever and he couldn't stop the tears from falling. They trickled along his jaw and between her silken fingers. He no longer doubted her intentions; the raw love and devotion he felt thrumming over their bond telling him all that he so desperately needed to know.

• • •

Obi-wan dragged his hand through his hair and slumped forward on the bed. The dark side clouded his vision. He wanted to trust Anakin so badly it hurt, and the Force seemed to be pushing them together. But he couldn't find it in himself to forgive him. So many of their brothers and sisters had been slain by his hand. So many good Jedi were gone.

And it was all his own fault. He could have stopped him. He could have stayed behind instead of going after Grievous, and helped to see him through his struggles. All of this could have been avoided, if he had simply said no to the Council, and suggested someone else go in his place.

Perhaps this was the Force giving him a chance to atone for his actions. At the very least it would keep him near the twins. Close enough, that should the situation suddenly take a turn for the worse, he could still protect them.

Pushing up from the bed, he took a deep breath and left his room. Walking in to Vader's empty chamber he stopped by the desk. The sound of Anakin's voice coming from the bedroom shook him to the core. He moved to the wall and listened, keeping his presence cloaked in the Force.

" _I had to tell him, Padmè. It was the only way I could keep you safe. Our baby growing inside you, will keep him from hurting you. I hope."_

" _I just wish you would have spoken with me first, Ani. We talked about this. We must be able to trust each other, or he will tear us apart."_

" _I know... I know."_

Obi-wan wiped a tear from his cheek. It had been so long since he'd heard that voice. Somehow, everything seemed so much more tragic now, especially hearing him speaking with her in the very same way he used to before he turned.

Another tear trickled down his face.

So, this was what Padmè meant when she said he was still in there. He could hear it himself now, could even imagine the pained expression on his face. Quickly drying his eyes, he centred himself. Even though they were having a moment, now seemed like the best time to tell him his answer. Force only knew how long his placid mood was going to last.

• • •

Jaina pushed to her feet and rubbed her head. Whatever Vader had injected her with, had given her one hell of a headache. But it was worth it. She finally had a Master. And not just any Master. Oh no. She'd bagged herself the former Chosen One. Sure, he was a Sith Lord now, but did that really matter in the grand scheme of things?

Dark Side. Light Side. What difference did it make any more?

No longer would she wonder why no-one wanted to train her. No longer would she ask late at night if there was something wrong with her.

She felt so alive. Well, besides the headache. But that would pass. She would endure one hundred more headaches if that's what it took to be his apprentice. Reaching into her hair, she undid the tie and released the braid. Fluffing it out, she let it fall loose over her shoulders and pulled her hood up.

A shimmer by the far wall caught her eye. She moved closer. It was his screwdriver, the one he'd launched across the room in a tantrum. She bent down and grabbed it. Turning it around, she noticed an intricate symbol carved into the Japoor handle. A symbol _any_ Jedi would instantly recognise. Could her new Master be any more intriguing?

For some reason she knew he would want it back. Quickly stuffing it into her robe pocket, she turned and ran for the stairs.

• • •

"Someday... this will all be yours, my son," Vader said, cradling Luke in his arms on the balcony. "One day, when I have made the Galaxy safe enough for both you and your sister to live together in freedom."

Two weary blue eyes stared back at him, his chubby little hand stretching out and touching his chin. He smiled down adoringly. "I will keep you safe, young one. I promise you."

"He looks so much like you," Padmè said, walking up to stand alongside him with their daughter.

"I only hope I can give them a better life than the one I had," he said, watching as his son gripped hold of his finger and held it tight.

"I wish you wouldn't talk like that."

He sighed and met her stare. "It is the truth, Padmè. They deserve better than this. You all do."

Obi-wan stopped by the bed and put his hands on his hips. "Yes, you are right, Anakin. They _do_ deserve better."

Vader slowly turned to face him, and it was then that he was able to see just how much their battle on Mustafar had truly changed him. Somehow, his imagination had managed to convince him that underneath all that black armour, he would still look the same. But the man he saw now, was so far from that. His hair was gone, replaced by barely healed scarred skin. Even his eyebrows hadn't survived the flames. He was thinner than he remembered – _gaunt_ , even – with deep purple shadows seated below his sockets. His eyes were an ice-cold, glacial blue that simmered with malice. However, still _not_ the burning Sith red-gold he was expecting.

Something dark suddenly swept over his face. He smirked and turned back to his wife, as if pretending to ignore him completely. Rasping in a ragged breath, he leaned forward, reached behind Padmè's head, pulled her face toward him and kissed her. Kissed her _hard._

 _Still so arrogant_. Obi-wan rolled his eyes and waited. And waited. And ... waited. Finally having enough, he cleared his throat. "If you are _quite_ finished, Anakin," he groaned out, folding his arms with a huff. "I thought we might be able to continue with our _previous_ conversation."

He withdrew from their kiss, leaving Padmè utterly breathless. "Nice to know I can still take your breath away, My Love," he said, gently brushing the hair from her face. "I almost wish we were back on Coruscant, so we could get more comfortable."

She blushed and playfully slapped his hand away. "Stop being a jerk, Anakin and go and talk to him."

"As you wish, _Milady_ ," he said, with a mock bow. He strode to the bed and laid Luke down. Retrieving his mask, he stared at it for a long moment before glancing up. "You wanted to talk, so talk. I'm listening."

"I was thinking about what you said earlier," Obi-wan said, watching the way he hesitated in putting the mask back on. If he wasn't mistaken, it looked as though he was afraid of it.

Luke wriggled forward and crawled to his helmet.

"No Luke, leave that alone," Vader growled, levitating it out of his son's reach. "So, Kenobi... you were saying?"

"I might wait for you to put your mask back on. Your constant wheezing is distracting."

"Fine!" he grunted, lifting it over his face. With a wave of his hand, the levitating helmet moved above him and he guided it down over his head. It hissed and clunked into position. A strange whistling sound permeated the air as the respirator suddenly re-engaged.

"On second thoughts ... I think I _preferred_ the wheezing," Obi-wan quipped.

Vader snarled, folded his arms and puffed his chest. "I am glad that my suffering is amusing to you. Now, _get_ _on_ with it. Before I use my lightsaber to wipe that smug smirk off your face."

"My, we are in a bad mood now, aren't we?" Obi-wan chuckled to himself and sat down on the bed. "Any way, as I was saying. I have decided to help you." He turned to stare at Vader, pointing his finger. "But there is one condition."

Padmè hurried in from the balcony. "Help you, Anakin? Help you do what? What is going on?"

"Do not worry about it, Padmè," Vader said, waving his hand dismissively. "Condition? What _condition_?"

He looked between the two of them in shock. "Have you not told her about your plans?" he asked, jumping to his feet.

Vader suddenly charged. He grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him from the room, all but throwing him into the main chamber.

Stumbling forward, Obi-wan spun around to see him pacing back and forth with his fists clenched. "Was that _really_ necessary?"

"Stop stalling and tell me your damned condition!" he snarled, whirling on his heel to face him.

"Fine," he barked back, folding his arms. "I will help you with the others, providing that wherever Luke and Leia go, I go with them."

"WHAT?" he roared indignantly.

They started to circle each other.

"You said it yourself, they deserve better than this. What if your plan fails? What if you get there and cannot defeat him? What happens if Palpatine ends up killing you?"

"I will not fail," Vader hissed, his cloak flapping behind as he continued to circle.

"What if you _do_?" Obi-wan insisted.

A green lightsaber ignited from behind the wall. "Master!" Jaina yelled, running forward.

Obi-wan spun around, just in time to see the young blonde padawan – now Sith Apprentice – rise into the air with her hands clutched at her throat. He looked to Vader only to see him standing still with his gloved hand extended and fingers clawed.

"Say I agree to your preposterous condition... _hypothetically_ , what would you do with them, if that were indeed to happen?" he asked lowly, all the while keeping his new apprentice afloat.

Obi-wan walked up to him, keeping his eyes firmly locked on his mask. He placed his hand on his extended arm and took a deep breath. "I would take them some place far away. I would keep them _safe,_ Anakin. _Safe..._ and far away from _him_."

"Would you train them? Would you brainwash them and turn them into mindless, _obedient_ little _Jedi_?" he asked.

"I would teach them how to control their abilities, yes. But _not_ in the same way that I tried and failed to do with you. I have learned from that mistake."

The black mask repeatedly shifted between him and his choking apprentice. A low rumbling growl rattled from his vocoder. The lenses were back on him again and Obi-wan could've sworn he'd seen the briefest flash of his eyes behind them.

"Very well," Vader said, releasing his fingers and lowering his hand. "I... _accept_ your condition, Obi-wan."

A loud thump echoed from behind, which he presumed to be Jaina landing on the floor. Vader pushed past him, holding his hand out and calling the fallen lightsaber into his palm. He stopped and loomed over his new apprentice, hooking his gloved fingers into his belt.

"KNEEL!" he ordered, his deep baritone command thundering in the chamber.

Jaina did as instructed, dropping her hooded head at his feet.

Obi-wan caught sight of Padmè standing in the doorway, the look of pure shock etched upon her face. He gave her a quick smile and gestured for her to stay put.

"You do not move until I _tell_ _you_ to move, is that understood?"

"Yes, My Master," Jaina answered, dropping even lower.

"Good. See to it that you _don't._ " He spun in place and spotted Padmè, his body turning to stone.

"Anakin?" she said, slowly walking toward him.

He held his hand out to her and sighed. "Come, Padmè... and I will tell you _everything_."

* * *

 _CORUSCANT: IMPERIAL PALACE: EMPEROR'S THRONE ROOM_

The sound of combat boots hitting marble echoed in the darkness, as one lone Officer approached the sweeping stair case. He knelt subserviently at the base, cradling a small package.

Darth Sidious broke from his meditation and dropped his hands in his lap. "Have you got it?" he asked.

"Yes, My Lord. It arrived only moments ago," the Officer replied.

"Bring it to me."

The man rose to his feet and ascended the many stairs to his Emperor's throne. With a bow, he placed the small package onto the obsidian command desk and stood to attention.

Gnarled fingers snatched at the secretive parcel and ripped off the protective packaging. A maniacal cackle tore from his twisted mouth and chorused in the air. He held the small black device up triumphantly, his glowing amber eyes burning with excitement.

Turning his attention to the obedient Officer, he placed his prized possession down between them and sneered. "Are they ready?" he asked.

"Ready as per your exact specifications, Your Highness," he said with a respectful nod. "Even one of our Heavy Artillery Tanks would struggle to break through those walls."

"Good... good," he sneered, picking his newest treasure up again and turning the throne to face his window. "For that is precisely what it needs to hold, Commander."

"Yes, Sire."

"You are dismissed. Leave me at once," he ordered with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, Sire. Thank you, Sire."

A sinister smile stretched across his face as he ran his fingers over the buttons on the small unit. His apprentice was going to learn a valuable lesson when he finally returned to him. With his dear little wife off playing the rebel with the Organas, he would complete his transition to the Dark Side ... by extreme force if necessary. He would see to it personally.

He chuckled to himself. _By_ _force_. He rose to his feet and stood by the window, staring out over the City, suddenly feeling back in control of everything.

"Hurry back, Lord Vader," he said to the passing traffic. "Your Master has a... _present_ for you."

* * *

 _ESSTRAN SECTOR: DROMUND KAAS: KAAS CITY_

Several hours had passed. Padmè, now fully apprised of her husband's plans, kissed their twins goodnight and pulled tight on the belt of her dressing gown. She walked into the main chamber, stifling a yawn.

Vader and Obi-wan stood by the glass doors facing the City, both in their parade stance. It was a relief to see them standing side by side again, without trying to kill each other. They weren't close like before and they probably never would be again, but as Obi-wan had said; they had reached an understanding. It was a win in her book, no matter how small.

She walked up behind them and smiled as Vader turned and offered his hand. The instant she took it, he pulled her under his arm and draped his luxurious black cloak over her shoulder. She looked to Obi-wan. He simply smiled and nodded before looking back to the stars.

Despite the trying times lying ahead of them, Padmè felt more at ease knowing the two of them would once again be working together. Chasing the closeness and intimacy that she missed so much, she allowed her hand to travel over her husband's quilted suit, pausing on his chest. His gloved fingers made their way into her hair, gently toying and playing with the strands and stroking them away from her face.

She gazed up to see his mask tilted down to look at her. With a contented sigh, she nestled her head against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart.

"So, My Love... have you given any thought to the type of ship you would like?" he rumbled, the words coming out of his vocabulator like some sort of strange, hypnotic lullaby.

Rubbing his chest, Padmè traced her fingers around the edges of his control panel, completely lost in the surprisingly peaceful moment. "Well, it needs to be fast, with its own cloaking device. I guess, if I could pick any... it would be one of the Nubian Cruisers."

She joined them in staring up at the stars, seeing the glowing white-blue aura of the Exactor and the other three Star Destroyers hovering in orbit.

"Hmmm. Nubian," Vader said softly, rhythmically caressing her hair. "I think I can manage that."

 _FIN_

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

And that is the end of Carpe Tenebrae: Episode One.

I hope you enjoyed it. There will be an epilogue before we start rolling with Episode Two.

I would like to thank everyone for your kind words and support over the years, the FanFiction Community truly is amazing. If you have any ideas or suggestions please feel free to send me a message and I will respond to them as quickly as possible.

As for those of you asking if the Inquisitors will appear in this story, well, not in this Episode, but possibly in the next one. I like to draw on many different types of Star Wars Lore, both Legends and Canon. I find aspects of both to be quite interesting and inspiring. And the Inquisitors definitely have a bit of an edge to them that's for sure.

May the Force Be With You.

Always.


	43. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Disciplina Discipulus**

Obi-wan folded his arms and leant on the wall, watching the spectacle before him. From the alcove overhang, he could see the entire sparring chamber in all its malevolent glory. The stone pillars and domed ceiling flashed red and green as Master and Apprentice duelled it out.

He stroked his beard. Vader was working her hard, his crimson saber slamming against hers relentlessly. His cape flapped in the air, boots thundering on the marble. A spin to the right followed by an overhanded slash had the young blonde stumbling. He went at her again. She parried and dipped. Vader drove her back, never letting her find her balance. She faded – clumsily. Thrust and slash, he punished her, again and again. The red beam sweeping and crackling.

She tripped and staggered, backing away, blue blade angled to the floor.

He charged, coming at her heavy. She blocked and held him. Blinding plasma arced between them. As if bored, he heaved forward, his brute strength forcing her from the contest. Skidding to the floor, the hilt slipped from her hand. It clattered and rolled away, leaving her gasping for breath and staring up at the Sith Lord looming over her.

"Pathetic," Vader snarled, angling his blade at her throat. "You fight like a _Jedi_. Perhaps you should share their fate."

Jaina stared, her breathing ragged and eyes wide. "Master ... please," she stuttered.

"Sith, do not beg," he scolded, holstering his weapon and stepping back. "Begging is for the _weak_. And weakness is unacceptable."

With a flourish of his cloak, he turned and walked away. "Get up and return to my chamber. We are done here."

"Yes ... m-my Master," she whimpered, pushing onto her knees.

Obi-wan strode out from the alcove, moving to intercept the Sith as he went to leave. He dropped into step beside him. "Perhaps you should go easy on her. She is only young," he suggested, staring ahead.

Vader snorted. "I was. To you, that should have been obvious."

"She put up a good fight," Obi-Wan said, as they walked into the Citadel foyer. "I thought she did quite well considering."

The Dark Lord stopped by a massive statue and turned to face him. "For a _Jedi_ ," he stated, folding his arms. "As for a Sith, she was pathetic. A complete waste of my time."

Obi-wan matched his stance. "Do explain."

"She has no passion, no drive," he growled, pacing erratically. "Sith _rely_ on their passion for strength. She is passive, always defending. Not once did she attack. I gave her ample opportunity."

Glancing over his shoulder, Obi-Wan caught sight of the defeated young blonde staggering up behind them. "She is a Jedi. That is the Jedi way. If you want her to change, you will need to teach her. You, are her Master. That is _your job_."

"Are you _seriously_ trying to lecture me on this?" he grunted, jabbing his gloved finger. "Passion cannot be learned, Obi-wan ... any more than it can be _unlearned._ Youshould know that better than anyone."

"Do not forget Anakin, that _you_ asked _me_ for my help."

"And I already regret it," he said, folding his arms.

"The two of you haven't even bonded yet. The connection is there, and so is the passion. I can feel it. But you are the one blocking _her._ You don't want to bond with her."

"And I wonder where I learned that!"

"Don't make this about us. I did what I thought was best ... for the both of us! I wasn't ready to be a Master, let alone yours."

Vader snorted again, turning his back to him. "Clearly."

Obi-wan dropped his gaze to the floor, suddenly overwhelmed with sorrow and guilt. He sighed. "I already told you how I feel about that, Anakin. But if you want this Apprenticeship of yours to work, you need to foster the bond. Without it, you will fail. As I did."

"Sidious and I bonded the moment I surrendered. There was no need to develop it. I assumed it would work the same with the padawan."

"Palpatine groomed you for years. We were just too blind to see it."

"And so, for your ignorance, paid the price," he snarled with venom. "You _all_ did." With a dismissive wave of his hand, he spun on his heel and stormed off, heading for the main stair well.

Shaking his head, Obi-wan regarded the young blonde as she hesitantly stopped by his side. He sighed.

"He hates me," she whispered, wiping a tear from her eye.

"He is a Sith Lord, now, Jaina. He _hates_ everyone. As will it soon be with you."

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

Just a little teaser for Episode Two. I hope you enjoyed it.

MTFBWY


End file.
